Chaos Theory
by Chloe Winchester
Summary: Spencer has been missing for 2 years, and when the BAU finds him, they find a broken and scared young man. And the worst of it, the man that took him is still out there. Some chapters rated M. Reidcentric NO SLASH set in season 2 Major Reid whumpage!
1. Since You've Been Gone

--So, i wrote this for a friend of mine. Hope u like it! Later chaps will be rated **M,** just a warning now. Enjoy!--

**Chaos Theory**

1

**Since You've Been Gone**

_Edenton, North Carolina_

It had been two years. Two whole years since anyone had seen him. The day he had disappeared was like any other. The last time Morgan had seen his friend he'd looked over his shoulder and waved on his way out the door. Then the next day…It was like he had vanished off the face of the Earth. In an instant, he was nothing more than a memory.

Forensics found nothing; police found nothing, his apartment looked like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. His car was parked in its usual spot, cell phone and wallet inside, and everywhere around it was clean. They had nothing to go on. Absolutely nothing.

Morgan stared down at the scratched bar underneath his arms, holding a shot glass between his hands, thinking back to the conversation he'd had with Hotch.

"We can't just give up on him!" He had exclaimed. Hotch shut his office door and crossed to his desk.

"Morgan, we've had cases piling up for months. Other people need our help."

"So that's it, you're just gonna let Reid die?!" He bellowed.

"Morgan," Hotch said calmly. "I understand why you're so upset. Reid was my friend too. And if he were here right now he would tell you how improbable it would be for him to still be alive after a year and a half. You know that." Morgan shook his head, blinking furiously.

"No," He said firmly. "Until I see his body he is _not_ dead. I _won't_ give up on him, Hotch. I can't." Hotch nodded.

"None of us are, Morgan. But we do have to move one just in case we never find him. Do you think He would want us to leave these other people calling to us for help? Because I don't." He said. Morgan bowed his head, sniffed and looked back up.

"I'll go to wherever we need to go. I'll work on any and every case we have. But when we aren't doing anything I'm workin' on this." He said sternly. Hotch immediately handed him the case file.

"I wouldn't expect you to do anything else." He said.

Morgan shook his head, bringing himself back to the bar. He brought the glass closer to his face, staring at the amber liquid.

"Happy Birthday, Kid." He whispered, knocking it back a second later.

"Hey," A familiar voice said behind him, a warm hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, Baby Girl, I'm okay." He said. She sat on the barstool next to him, looking like she didn't believe him.

"Gorgeous, I may not be a profiler but I can tell when you're upset." She said, smiling lightly. He shook his head.

"I _know_ He's out there somewhere, Penelope. I'd know if he wasn't. And I can't let him go, I just can't." He said quietly. Garcia put her hand on his shoulder again, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I know you can't, Derrick. I get it," She paused. "I had to move on. I had to let Him go, Sugar. It hurt too much to hang onto Him."

"I know, Garcia. It's alright." He mumbled. She squeezed his shoulder again.

"If He's out there we'll find him. Or He'll find us. It's not like He's stupid." She said, smiling. He attempted one back, staring at his hands.

"It's His birthday." He stated. She nodded.

"I know. He's 25 now, right?" She asked. He nodded. "J.J.'s been crying off and on all day. Gideon hasn't talked much. Hotch hasn't either. Emily didn't talk to him much, and Rossi's never met him so..." She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I sure do miss that little genius." Morgan swallowed, nodding again.

"We should get back to the case," He said. She nodded. "Have we found the guy's house yet?" She shook her head.

"My search engines are still going trying to find the guy's name. As soon as they do that we can find his house." She assured. He nodded, standing and tossing a twenty onto the counter.

"We should get back then."

* * *

_Edenton Police Station_

Gideon rubbed his temples, trying not to think at all. His head ached terribly from attempting this. The boy's face was still as fresh in his mind as it was the day he went missing. He remembered mentoring him to the best of his ability, broadening his thinking, opening his mind to anything. He was like a son to him.

"You alright?" Rossi asked, sitting next to him.

"Just thinkin'." He said truthfully.

He smiled to himself, thinking about the first time Spencer had beat him at chess.

"I never got to meet Spencer," Rossi said. "What was he like?" Gideon smiled again

"He was smart, very smart. Genius. He wasn't arrogant about it, though. He wasn't arrogant about anything. He was always trying to prove himself. And he had the ambition to do it. But no matter what he did it was never good enough. That's what he thought, anyway. And he loved to learn."

"Sounds like a good kid." Rossi said, smiling lightly. Gideon nodded.

"Today's his birthday." He said quietly.

"That explains a lot, then." Rossi glanced over at J.J., who was blowing her nose.

"Uh, sir," The two men turned. Garcia was looking at Gideon, looking anxious. "I, I think I found the guy's house."

* * *

Bullet proof vests were fastened in place, guns were loaded, their attentions were heightened to "on edge".

Hotch was grateful for the distraction. He couldn't take the silence around him much longer. He'd been wondering a lot lately what it would be like if Reid was still here.

_We'd get answers to a lot of questions a lot faster._ He thought, trying to laugh about the awful situation. He had to. If he didn't he'd go insane.

He truly did think Spencer was dead. And he didn't like to think about how he died. Spencer wouldn't just leave. No, there was something wrong. He'd known that since day one. And he hoped the son of a bitch that took him burned in the lowest depths of Hell. Spencer was almost –if not totally- innocent. He'd never hurt anyone in any situation that wasn't life or death. So for anyone to hurt him had to be damnable.

"Hotch, you in there?" Morgan asked. Hotch nodded.

"Yeah, let's go." He said.

There was no car parked in the gravel driveway, or anywhere near the property for that matter. Nevertheless, they had to go through their routine of bashing in a locked door and running from room to room yelling "Clear!".

Hotch checked all of the corners in the living room of the rickety farmhouse and the kitchen.

"Clear!" He shouted, lowering his gun.

Morgan opened a door that led to a basement and quickly went down it, gun pointed down the darkened hall. Hotch walked toward the back rooms where other officers were quickly clearing them one by one.

He walked in what he assumed was the man's bedroom, holstering his gun and looking around, trying to see what he could understand about this man that he hadn't known before.

That's when someone yelled from downstairs.

"HOTCH!"

--uh oh! Ok, so that's chapter one. Tell me what u think! (How'd ya like it Lizzie?)--


	2. In the Arms of the Angel

--**NO SLASH **of any kind, ok? Just friends all around. alright?--

2

**In the Arms of the Angel**

Morgan walked quietly down the stairs, doing his best not to make them creak. He had his gun pointed in front of him, listening intently for any sound. He rounded the corner at the bottom, looking around wildly, just in case.

There was a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling a few feet away, and there was someone underneath it.

He was backed against the wall, face in his hands, which were resting against his knees, naked and trembling. Morgan walked toward him, putting his gun away.

"Hey," He said gently, kneeling in front of him and not wanting to scare him. He whimpered anyway and tensed, trying to huddle himself closer. Morgan heard chains rattle. He looked at the wall behind him and saw a chain coming out of the wall, but he didn't see where it ended. "Hey, it's alright. It's okay, I won't hurt ya." The younger man shook his head. Morgan touched the back of his head. He jerked away, whimpering and breathing rapidly, shaking his head some more; chains rattled.

"Hey," Morgan tried coaxing his face up. "It's alright, I'm here to help you." He cried out when Morgan touched him, lifting his face but turning it against the wall and into the shadows, wincing deeply.

There was an iron collar around his neck. The chain was attached to the back of it. His hands were shackled together and yet another chain led from them to the collar.

Morgan turned his face, fighting against the weak effort he was giving to get away.

"Shhh, hey, hey, easy, look at me. It's alright, shh…" He assured.

He stopped fighting and looked at him, opening his eyes, scared and shaking harder than he had been before.

Morgan's heart stopped. His stomach plummeted, freezing into a block of ice.

"No," He breathed. "No it can't be…" He looked at the boy, really looked. "Reid?"

He just stared back at him, no recognition anywhere in his frightened, haunted eyes.

He was thinner than when he had last seen him. Just a little. His hair was past his ears and curled at the ends. Other than that he looked the same. Exactly the same. Unless you counted his eyes. In his eyes he looked like he'd aged ten years. He'd been through the most awful Hell anyone could be put through, Morgan saw that. He saw how scared of him he was, how deathly afraid he was.

"HOTCH!" He yelled over his shoulder. Spencer yelped and hid his face again, shaking almost violently. Morgan winced at what he just did. "Hey, it's okay, it's okay, shh…" He urged his face up again. "I'm not yelling at you, it's okay," He got Spencer to look at him again. "Reid, you remember me, right?" He just looked at him, tears in his eyes. "C'mon, Spencer. Talk to me, kid." Spencer blinked and looked like he was thinking.

"M-Morgan?" His voice was so small and quiet Morgan wasn't sure he had said anything. He nodded.

"That's right, kid. It's me." There were footsteps on the stairs. Spencer whimpered and covered his face.

"It's alright, it's alright, no one's gonna hurt you." Morgan assured. Spencer shook his head.

"No, nonono, no, no, nonononono…" He whispered. Hotch and everyone else was stopped behind him. Morgan looked over his shoulder at them.

"I found him," He said. Hotch blanched. "I walked down here and, and there he is."

"Are you…is he really…Oh my god."

"I'll call an ambulance." Prentiss said, running back up the stairs.

"Did, did any of you guys find a set of keys anywhere?" Morgan asked. They shook their heads. J.J. had her hand over her mouth, tears leaking out of her eyes. Gideon looked like he'd been frozen where he stood.

Morgan's attention was on Spencer. "Any of you guys have a paper clip or something?" He asked. J.J. pulled her hair out of the clip she had it in without any sort of hesitation and handed him a bobby pin. Morgan nodded his thanks and started picking the lock on the shackles.

"Alright, kid, hold still." He said softly. Spencer gave a dry sob at his words, looking at these people who looked familiar but that he did not know, wondering when they were going to hurt him and when Master would join them. He whimpered every time Morgan touched his skin and jerked weakly away. But Morgan was much stronger than him. And that scared him, a lot.

His hands came free for the first time in forever. He never remembered being able to move his arms this much.

Morgan's hand reached for his neck and he jumped back, a tear sliding down his cheek. He shook his head.

"Please," His voice was very quiet and hoarse from lack of use. "Please…" The woman with yellow hair started crying audibly. She looked so familiar…

"Shh, hey, it's alright, Spencer," Morgan said. He knew Morgan. Morgan was his friend. But he could still hurt him. He could hurt him very badly. "I'm gonna get this off of you, okay?" Spencer tried fighting against him, but he was too tired. Too weak. Master had beaten him badly today. Worse than usual. He used the bat. He only used the bat when he was _very _angry with him. But he must have done something wrong. He was still trying to remember what he could have done to upset Master so much, but he couldn't think of anything.

Morgan twisted the pin in the lock, listening for the tumblers to click. It finally came undone and fell to the ground with a clang that made Spencer cry out and jump.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm gonna get you out of here, okay?" He moved to try and hoist him up. His hand clasped over his shoulder. Spencer screamed.

"NO!" He shrieked, trying desperately to get away from him, crying. Morgan let go of him, wide eyed. The rest of the team had jumped at his outburst.

Gideon looked at Spencer, then from person to person. J.J. had turned away, stifling her sobs with her hand. Rossi had his hand on her shoulder.

"Ambulance is on its way." Prentiss said, coming back down the stairs. Gideon stared at her for a beat, as if just realizing her existence.

"Prentiss, I need you to do something," He said quietly, taking her aside. "I need you to go to him, and I need you to try and get him to calm down."

"Me?" Prentiss said, stunned. "Sir, I-"

"You're a woman, Emily," He said. "A man has done this to him. He won't let any of us touch him. He might let you. It's the best chance we have of getting him out of here without drugging him."

"Sir, he doesn't know me, but J.J.-"

"Is not exactly calm right now. She'll frighten him. And I think he's terrified enough, don't you?" He said calmly. Prentice looked at Spencer, who's face was in his knees, hands wrapped around his legs, her heart giving a painful twist.

"Please, Emily, for his sake." Gideon said, pleading. There was another beat before she nodded.

She walked over to him, kneeling down in front of him, nodding the okay to Morgan when he started to protest.

"Hey, Spencer." She said softly, laying her hand on his. He jumped and looked up at her.

"Please, don't hurt me…" He begged, his voice a quiet rasp. Morgan stood and started back up the stairs.

"Shh, I won't hurt you," She assured. "Spencer, do you remember me?" He looked at her, his lips shaking. "It's Emily. I didn't know you for very long, but…I came in after Elle, remember?" He nodded slowly.

"Emily," He said. She could barely hear him. "Emily…"

"That's right," She smiled gently at him. Morgan came back down the stairs, blanket in hand. He handed it to Emily, who nodded as a silent thanks. "Are you cold?" She asked, trying to coax him to her. He nodded, looking longingly at the blanket. She wanted to wrap it around him, but sudden moves like that could scare him very badly. "Then come here," She said gently. "I promise you that I won't hurt you, or let anyone else hurt you, okay?" He looked at her and the people behind her.

He knew them, their names were right there but…it was like there was a fog in his mind, the words just out of reach.

"Hey," Emily said quietly, smiling warmly at him. "Don't worry about them, they won't hurt you either. If it makes you feel better, pretend they aren't even there." He looked at the blanket. He hadn't seen one in a very long time. He hadn't been permitted to be warm. But Emily,

_Prentiss, Prentiss!_

said it was alright.

He took a chance. Master would punish him greatly for this, but maybe it would be worth it. Just to be warm for a little while. And for some reason he wasn't sure of, when she hugged him, he started to cry.

Emily let him lean against her before she wrapped the blanket and her arms around him. He started sobbing softly and she stroked his hair, surprised when he didn't jump or try and get away. Gideon was right.

"Shh…It's okay, it's okay, you're safe now. Shh…"

But Spencer knew better. He wasn't safe. He would never be safe. Master would be home soon. And oh, the punishment he would receive for such disobedience.

But Emily was warm. And he felt safe with her hugging him. She didn't have those hands, like Morgan did. She didn't have that body or that voice. She wouldn't hurt him.

Master would, Master would beat him until he couldn't move. Maybe that's why he was crying.

--Aw, sad :( More soon!--


	3. Blue on Black

--Thank you to everyone that previously reviewed and thanks to everyone that pointed out i was spelling Prentiss wrong lol!--

3

**Blue on Black**

The ambulance showed up soon after that. Emily managed to get Spencer upstairs. He could walk alright, but when she told him she needed to get him upstairs he nearly ran up them, like he'd be hurt if he didn't. Prentiss was just as shocked as everyone else. She couldn't move for a moment. Not until he fell about halfway.

She ran up the stairs.

"Hey! Hey, hey, easy," She said. He was still trying to get up. "Spencer, it's alright, it's alright stop." She assured, draping the blanket back over his shoulders. He looked at her, fear, so strong it was making him shake, in his eyes.

"I am s-sorry," He croaked. "Please, don't punish m-me too badly. Pl-please. I'll-"

"Shh," Emily said. "It's alright. No one's going to punish you, it's alright." He looked confused.

"B-But, I-"

"Shh…" She pushed his hair out of his face. "It's alright, Spencer. Come on, I'll help you, okay?"

She helped him up the stairs to where the paramedics were. There was a nasty bruise forming on his shin from where he fell. But that was nothing compared to the rest of his body. In this light Prentiss could see just how beaten his body was.

Bruises, everywhere. And if they weren't black they were blue. There were welts and gashes on his back. His wrists were raw, and there were patches of raw skin on his neck as well. But there was only a small, faded bruise on his jaw. Other than that his face was untouched. The others had followed Spencer and Prentiss up the stairs. And the paramedics were now in the house.

Before Emily or anyone else could say anything they took Spencer and put him on the gurney, wheeling him outside. And it scared Spencer, it scared him a lot.

* * *

Why are they taking me away?! No, no take me back! Take me back, please!

"No, no please!" I tried to yell. They hadn't told me to keep quiet. "Please, please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I started writhing back and forth, trying to get away. My heart hammered in my chest. I wanted to get away. I didn't want them to punish me. They held me down, their hands on my skin. "NO!" I screamed, shaking my head. "NO, PLEASE, PLEASE!" They lifted the cot on wheels and put met in a metal box, and they were still touching me.

"PLEASE, oh please! Please, I'll be a good boy! I'LL BE A GOOD BOY, PLEASE!" What if they were taking me to Master? Master wouldn't be pleased with me. They would tell him about my disobedience. He would punish me so severely. "I'm sorry, PLEASE, I'm sorry, I'LL BE A GOOD BOY, I'll be a good boy!" Tears were falling from my eyes. They were talking to me, but I couldn't understand what they were saying. A woman got a needle and filled the syringe.

"NO! Nononono, PLEASE! I promise I'll be a good boy!" They were still yelling at me, and touching me.

"HEY!" I jumped, and so did the men in uniforms. I looked toward the door. Morgan. "Let go of him," He ordered. The hands were gone. He sat down next to me and looked down at me. I was still weeping, and I was trembling. Morgan looked sad. "It's okay, Kid. It's alright, they won't hurt you, okay?"

"I'll-I'll be a good boy, Morgan," I promised. "I'll be a good boy, don't punish me, please!"

"Shh, shh, hey, hey it's alright. I'm not punishing you. These guys are trying to help you, okay?" He assured. He gingerly put his hand on top of mine. I only flinched a little. Morgan looked at the people in uniforms.

"Take it easy, okay? One person at a time," He said, authority in his voice. Authority that made me shrink away from him just a little. He looked back down at me. "It's gonna be alright, kid, alright?" I nodded, still shaking. What if he was tricking me? What if he was taking me to Master? I shut my eyes. Morgan squeezed my hand. I cried while the people touched me.

* * *

_Edenton General Hospital_

The ride to the hospital wasn't long, for the paramedics anyway. To Morgan and Spencer it was excruciatingly long. Morgan winced every time someone touched his friend. And Spencer whimpered each time.

Morgan quickly relayed to the doctors what had happened to Spencer and refused to leave him alone. He even had to shove his badge in one of their faces just to get him to shut up.

"Do you have a doctor here that has dealt with this sort of thing before?" He asked, irritated.

"Yes," The Doctor said. "Just…wait here." He walked out of the hospital room.

Spencer was looking around, wide eyed, scared.

"It's alright," Morgan said gently. "No one's gonna hurt you anymore, okay?" Spencer looked at him. Morgan saw in his eyes that he didn't believe him.

"Are you Agent Morgan?" A voice at the door asked. A black woman stood in the door. She was in her early forties, trim and had a sweet disposition.

"Yeah." Morgan said, walking toward her. She extended her hand.

"I'm Dr. Robins," She said. "Dr. Ashmore said you requested me?"

"I asked for someone that had handled a situation like this before." He said. Dr. Robins glanced at Spencer, sympathy and pain in her eyes

"I've never had a patient this extreme before," She said. "I've dealt mainly with rape and some kidnappings that didn't last nearly this long."

"He's…he's been through a lot. These other people-"

"Aren't exactly sympathetic," She finished. She nodded and looked up at him. "I'll do the best I can not to scare him."

"Thank you." Morgan said truthfully. Dr. Robins was looking at papers on her clipboard, her lips pursed.

"Two years?" She said, wincing. Morgan nodded. "_Dr. _Spencer Reid?"

"He's not a medical doctor." Morgan said. Dr. Robins glanced at Spencer again.

"He's so young." She said.

"He's got three doctorates." He said. Robins' eyebrows rose.

"Goodness. Alright, I'll look him over."

"Please," Morgan said, desperation in his voice. "Don't hurt 'im."

"I swear I won't." She promised before sitting next to Spencer.

The young man jumped when he saw her.  
"Sh, it's okay, honey," She assured, smiling gently. "My name's Ruth."

"Pl-please, do-don't hurt m-me." His voice was small and shaking.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, sweetie," She said. "I have to look you over and make sure you're okay, alright?"

Spencer looked at Morgan, making his heart ache. He looked so damn scared.

"It's alright," He assured. "She won't hurt you, okay?"

"And he'll be right here okay?" She said gently. Spencer nodded, glancing nervously from Morgan to Dr. Robins.

Robins pulled the curtains around the bed but left them open enough so Spencer could still see Morgan.

"Okay, this is gonna sting a little honey." She said. Spencer whimpered and looked at Morgan.

"It's okay, Kid," Morgan assured. "I'm here, it's alright." Spencer reached out to him, tears and fear in his eyes. Morgan took his hand, wincing internally for his friend.

There was a very long five minutes in which Spencer winced, yelped and whimpered. Morgan soothed him as best as he could, and Ruth said she was sorry each time. Morgan understood that she was doing her job, she had to press on bruises that hurt even if she did do it lightly. She had to make sure he was okay.

Truth be told, Ruth would rather not touch him at all. She could tell just by looking at him that he had been through true horrors that she couldn't even imagine.

She could tell just by feeling his arms and his ribs that they'd been broken before. But they had been set extremely well. Whoever hurt him also made sure that he wouldn't have any deformities from broken bones.

"Alright, alright, honey," She said, gently touching his shoulder. "Just a little longer, okay? Now you aren't gonna like this part one bit. But just remember, I'm not hurting you, sweetie, okay?" He nodded and turned his head back toward Morgan and shut his eyes.

"It's alright," Morgan said, painfully watching Spencer's face twist in discomfort and fear that he was trying to control. He squeezed Morgan's hand tighter and tears slipped out from under his closed lids. He whimpered quietly.

"It's okay, kid, it's okay." Morgan assured. Spencer swallowed and nodded but did not open his eyes.

"I'm sorry, honey, I'm sorry. Almost done, sugar, I promise." Ruth said softly. Spencer nodded, his lower lip trembling.

It was an excruciating three minutes.

"Okay, okay, I'm done. No more, sweetheart, no more." Ruth said, brushing his hair back. He nodded, flinching away from her hand out of reflex.

Ruth got him clothes, which he denied at first.

"No, please, please, I have already disobeyed Master so much already. Please, if I, if I am clothed he will be so enraged-"

"Spencer, Spencer," Morgan said, looking at him steadily. "He can't get you anymore, alright? He can't hurt you," Spencer looked at him and the floor, uneasy, worried, deathly afraid. "You can wear clothes, kid. It's okay."

He put the clothes on, hesitating at first.

"Alright, you just wait here a minute. We've gotta take some blood. I don't think I'll need to run any x-rays. Doesn't look like there's anything broken," Dr. Robins said. She leaned close to Morgan and whispered, "I'll go talk to everyone else, alright? Are you gonna stay here with him?" He nodded. She smiled at Spencer and left the room.

Spencer sat on the edge of the hospital bed, his hands folded in his lap, his body drawn close, his head bowed.

"It's gonna be okay, kid." He said, carefully putting a hand on his shoulder. Spencer flinched but didn't pull away.

"You still scared of me?" He asked.

"A little." Spencer mumbled.

"It's gonna be alright, kid. We'll figure this out, okay?" He said. Spencer nodded, still not looking at him. That's when something horrible occurred to Morgan.

Garcia didn't know.

--Ruh roh!--


	4. Pain

4

**Pain**

_Edenton General Hospital_

"Is he alright?" Hotch asked immediately when he saw Dr. Robins come toward them.

"He'll be okay. He's a little malnourished and slightly dehydrated but other than that he's alright. Now, I'm not sure how his body'll react after being treated so well. He might get a fever and seem like he's sick, but it's just his body adapting." She explained. She sighed and looked at the floor for a moment.

"That boy has been beaten probably everyday for the past two years. He's had several broken ribs and his right arm's been broken once. From the looks of it it probably happened almost a year ago. Another strange thing I noticed is that he has scarring, but it's all very faint. Most of it's almost invisible. Whoever did this knew what to do so there was hardly any physical evidence."

"Is that all?" J.J. asked, looking ever still distressed.

"I wish it was, honey," Robins said. She hesitated before she continued. "He's been sexually assaulted. For a very long time. If I had my guess, for the past two years."

"Oh, god." J.J. said, turning around and covering her mouth.

"Thank you." Hotch said. Robins nodded and walked away.

"J.J.," Emily said, holding her shoulders. "You have to keep it together, alright? We need you to be at your best, alright?" J.J. nodded and wiped her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I…he's so sweet. He's never hurt anyone in his life. And…and something like this happens to him? It's not fair, Emily." She said quietly.

"I know, J.J., but he needs us. We have to find the monster that did this to him, and we need all of us to do it, alright?" Emily said. J.J. nodded, and sniffed.

"Alright," Rossi said. "Are we going to keep him here?"

"We can't," Gideon said, speaking for the first time since they'd left the farmhouse. "This man specifically sought out his victims and made sure to kill them exactly how he planned."

"Which means he'll do anything to get Reid back." Hotch said.

"So why do we have to take him out of the hospital?" Rossi asked.

"Hospitals are easy to break into if you know how they work," Hotch said. "And judging by how well his broken bones were set and the lack of scarring he has to have some sort of medical background."

"He could easily break in and get to Spencer right under our noses," Gideon said. "We have to take him back to the station with us." They nodded.

"Rossi, come with me back to the house. Finding Reid and knowing what he did to him changes the profile completely. Gideon, go tell Morgan what's going on and then follow us. Prentiss, go with him. J.J., call Garcia." Hotch said.

* * *

_Edenton Police Station_

"Hey there, sugar, did you guys catch our baddie?" Garcia asked, smiling.

"No, Garcia, we didn't," J.J. said. "But-"

"Then what do you need me to look for darling, my eager fingers await your commands."

"Garcia, listen to me," J.J. said. "I don't need you to look for anything. We went to the guy's house and we didn't find him. We found…we…god…"

"How many bodies, J.J.?" Garcia asked, cringing and leaning back from the computer screen.

"No bodies, Garcia, we found…Reid."

Penelope nearly dropped the phone. "Wh-what? Oh, oh my god is, is he dead? Is he hurt? Is he okay? What happened-"

"Garcia, relax," J.J. said. "He's alive but, but he's not exactly okay…"

J.J. told her everything that they knew and everything that had happened since they went to the house. Once she got to when they found Spencer, it only took about thirty seconds before she started to cry. And when J.J. had finished, she was not only upset, but irate.

"I'm going to find this 'Master' person and tear his freaking face off!" She said, sniffing. "I swear I will."

"We're bringing him there right now," She said. "And, when you see him, take it slow. You have to make sure he remembers you before you can touch him. And if you do hug him, take it very, very slow. He gets really scared when people he doesn't recognize touch him."

"Okay," Garcia nodded and wiped her eyes. "Alright. I'll make sure the sheriff knows what's going on and I'll see if I can find a place that he can sleep."

"Thank you, Garcia."

"Anytime, honey." Garcia put the phone back on the cradle. She snatched her purse off of the desk and rifled through it, tears still not gone. She took out her wallet and opened it, flipping to one of the many pictures she had inside.

She smiled at it, laughing lightly but still crying. Brown eyes, a halfway waved hand and an awkward smile looked back at her.

"You're okay," She said. "Our baby's okay."

* * *

There were a lot of people in this room. They all wore the same uniform. None of them had badges like Morgan, Prentiss and J.J. had.

J.J. had to remind me who she was. And I couldn't believe I had forgot. She was such a good friend to me.

There were so many people. And it was loud, it was very, very loud. I don't like loud.

In the back of my mind I heard those horrible snapping sounds and felt ghost pains in my back. I held my arm, drawing myself in and looking at the floor.

The snaps got louder and louder and it was like I was right there again.

"_SCREAM FOR ME BOY!" My hands were bound in shackles above my head, the bullwhip tore into my back, making me scream and writhe in agony. _

_SNAP!_

"_I SAID SCREAM!" I had to obey Master._

_SNAP!_

_I screamed as loud as I could, begging and pleading. _

"_MASTER, PLEASE! PLEASE DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE!"_

_SNAP! SNAP! CRACK! SNAP! _

"_GAHHUHH! PLEASE, MASTER, PLEASE! STOP, MASTER PLEASE!"_

_The whip ripped my skin in a fury, making me sob and scream, my voice becoming weaker and more strangled. It wasn't long before I couldn't scream anymore. And that made Master angry._

_CRACK!!_

"_I SAID SCREAM!" I tried. I tried so very hard to please Master. But I couldn't scream as loud as he wanted me to. He stood in front of me, his face close to mine._

_Tears leaked down my cheeks, like the blood on my back._

"_I said scream, boy." He hissed. _

"_I can't, Master," I rasped. "I c-can't. I'm s-sorry, I'm so-sorry. Pl-please-"_

"_That's not being a very good boy," Master said darkly. "That's being a bad boy, isn't it?" _

"_N-no, Master, please!" _

_SNAP!_

_It sliced across my chest._

"_Please!" I still couldn't scream, I could barely yell. _

_SNAP! CRACK! SNAP! SNAPSNAPCRACK!! CRACK!_

"_Oh, please! Please, Master…" SNAP! I cried out to the best of my ability, trembling and crying. When it stopped all I could do was whimper. _

"_Are you going to be a good boy, now?" Master asked. _

"_Y-yes, Master-" _

* * *

Morgan watched the young boy freeze. He watched the rise and fall of his chest increase rapidly. His eyes squeezed shut and he started trembling. He winced and whimpered in almost a rhythm. When tears started to fall Morgan went over to him.

"Spencer," He said, touching his shoulder. "Spencer, look at me." The boy's eyes snapped open, terrified, gasping.

"M-Morgan?"

"Shh, it's alright, Kid. What's wrong?" He asked. Spencer looked around at the busy police station.

"It's loud, Morgan," He whispered. "It's very loud."

"Did it make you remember something?" He asked. Spencer nodded, his hand clasped over his arm, lower lip trembling.

"No one's gonna hurt you here, alright?" Morgan said.

"Oh my god!" A voice a few feet away exclaimed. Spencer jumped and Morgan looked up.

Garcia looked at him, her eyes wide and disbelieving. "You're…you're here. You're okay," Spencer looked at her, tears still in his eyes, still scared. "Oh, honey, you don't remember me, do you?"

He shook his head.

"It's Garcia, you remember? The fun one with the computers?" She came toward him slowly, steadily, making sure not to scare him. Spencer looked at the floor, his mind searching.

He knew she looked familiar, and she didn't look like she would hurt him either.

"Garcia…" He whispered. His eyes lit up suddenly, like a light switch had been flipped on. "Garcia." He said louder. She gently put her hand on his shoulder. He winced.

"It's okay, it's okay, I won't hurt you, sugar. You remember me?" She asked quietly. He nodded slowly. "Can…can I hug you?" Spencer hesitated. What if she did hurt him? No, Morgan was there, Morgan wouldn't let him get hurt. He nodded again.

She hugged him tight, like Emily had.

Garcia was smiling, tears in her eyes. "We got you, honey. No one's gonna take you away again. You're safe now."

* * *

Safe. I don't know what that means.

--Aww :'( Feedback please!--


	5. Them Bones

5

**Them Bones**

_Harrington Farmhouse_

Hotch walked down the stairs of the farmhouse behind Gideon. The police were still outside, combing the area for the unsub, Arthur Harrington.

He'd killed at least four young men in their twenties. They'd all been beaten to death, and it had taken them all quite some time to die. What had them puzzled was why there was no sexual component to any of their deaths. Harrington had a preference as to which of the young men he killed and methodically beat them to make sure it took awhile for them to die. There should be some sort of sexual component somewhere.

Hotch looked around the dark room they had been in less than two hours before when they got Reid. The memory of coming down here and seeing his young friend again still made his stomach flip. He'd always hoped they would find Spencer alive, but this…this was just too horrible. If he only knew how much worse it was about to get.

Gideon looked down at the fallen shackles that had held Spencer, frowning. Spencer had been beaten, a lot, and more than likely with several different instruments. But where were they? And there was hardly any blood in this room. They were missing something. And Rossi found out what.

He walked to the right of where the shackles were, to a big metal door. He pulled it open and met nothing but darkness. Air blew in at him, a coppery smell and metal on it. He winced and reached along the inside wall, looking for a light switch. He found it and flipped it on. And the sight that met him made his insides churn.

"My God…" he whispered, looking around in horror. "Hotch, Gideon!" He called over his shoulder.

The two men rushed over to the door, looking inside.

A large room met them. The ceiling was the same height as the rest of the basement, but it stretched at least fifty yards in every direction. It made sense now why the space Spencer had been kept it was so small for a basement. This covered the rest of the house's foundation.

The back wall was lined with horrible instruments. Knives, whips, coils of barbed wire, fire pokers batons and something that resembled a cattle prod. In the middle of the room were three tables. One wooden with iron restraints, another metal and the last was…

"Is that...?" Hotch began.

"The rack." Gideon said quietly.

Several pairs of shackles hung from the ceiling, and there were some on the floor. There was a tub over on the left side filled with water. And on the opposite side of the room, a brazier.

There was blood smeared everywhere. Everywhere. The floor, the tables, the instruments, the tub, the shackles. They understood exactly where they were. They were in Spencer's private Hell.

"Gideon, he…he used…all of this on…" Hotch couldn't even get the words out. Gideon nodded.

"This is why there was no sexual component to the murders. He could just come home and do exactly what he wanted to Spencer." Gideon said plainly. They all knew that in order to catch this monster they had to treat it exactly as if he were a normal unsub in a normal case.

"Which is why the victims were killed so quickly. He tortured Reid, but he killed them." Hotch said.

"He couldn't kill Spencer. He kept him for something to take out his rage and sexual desires on. But when that wasn't enough he started killing." Rossi said.

"He's meticulous, methodical and obsessive. He brainwashed Spencer to the point of calling him Master and making him think he had no human rights," Gideon explained, walking around the room, trying to control the bile that continued to rise in his throat. "He's also had some experience in the medical field. Enough to make sure whatever he did hardly left a scar and if it did it would be faint enough that hardly anyone could see."

"Of course he wouldn't," Rossi said. "He didn't want to damage his toy. He had to make sure that Spencer still looked good and desirable."

"He was exactly what he wanted in a victim."

"Which explains this," Hotch said. He was standing in the far right corner, in a shower. On the wall next to it was a shelf with shampoo and soap. "This is why he was so clean when we found him."

"How much are we gonna bet he videotaped this?" Rossi asked rhetorically.

"The better question," Gideon said, turning to the wall of devices. "How much are we gonna bet he's watching our every move right now?"

* * *

_Edenton Police Station_

Morgan had to tell me to slow down while I was eating three times.

"No one's gonna take it away from you, kid," he kept saying. I tried to believe him, I really did. But I couldn't. After so many times of being promised food only to have it taken away too soon and beaten, or…or worse.

I ate quickly, just to be sure. But I got to eat it all. No one said I was a bad boy. No one tried to punish me in any way. And so far no one had tried to Take me.

I winced when Morgan moved, but he just took the empty food container away.

"You full?" He asked. I nodded, keeping my eyes down. Mustn't look anyone in the eye, no that's being a bad boy.

J.J. gently put her hand on mine, making me jump away at the sudden touch.

"It's alright," she assured, putting her hand on mine again. I tried to be more relaxed, but it was hard. J.J. looked at Morgan. "They have showers here, right?" Fear filled my stomach and pushed my heart to my throat. Not a shower, please, please, not a shower.

"Yeah," Morgan said. "In the back."

She nodded and looked at me, smiling her warm smile. "Can you come with me, Spence?" I nodded reluctantly. Must behave. Must be a good boy. Can't be a bad boy. Bad boys get punished. Must be a good boy, must be a good boy, must be a good boy…

She still held onto my hand and led me away from Morgan. I started shaking. What had I done wrong? Why did they think I was a bad boy? What did I do?!

We walked into a room with a lot of tile and stalls. We stopped in front of one with a curtain. I didn't want to know what was behind it. I didn't want to know what J.J. was going to do to me. She seemed so nice, so warm. But she was going to hurt me. I had done something to upset her; I had been a bad boy. But no matter how hard I searched the images in my mind I couldn't think of how.

She must have sensed my unease. Or saw me standing here trembling.

"Hey," she said, looking worried and stepping away from the shower that she had turned on. "Spence, what's wrong?"

"Please," I choked, tears stinging my eyes. "Please J.J., don't hurt me. I'm so sorry for what I've done, please don't punish me. Please, I'm so sorry, please…"

"Hey, hey, hey," she put her hands on my shoulders. "It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you, it's okay. I just thought that you might want to, I don't know, clean up."

I did. I wanted desperately to get Master off of me. I could still feel that place. I could still feel Him. I nodded. She squeezed my shoulders. Not hard, not to hurt me, but more as an endearing gesture. I hoped.

"Alright, just turn the water off when you're done, alright?" She said. I nodded and started to undress. She turned away, her face red.

"D-did I make you angry?" I asked, panicking.

"No, no honey, I'm just trying to give you some privacy," she said gently. I nodded and continued undressing. I stepped into the shower and gasped.

"What's wrong? Too hot?" J.J. asked. I shook my head.

"It's warm. Why is it warm?" It felt good, so incredibly good. I wasn't permitted to have this. I wasn't permitted any comfort of any kind. "I'm, I'm not permitted t-to-"

"It's alright," J.J. said from the other side of the curtain. "You can be warm, Spence, it's okay."

I hesitated, looking at the stream of water. She said I could. She said I wouldn't be punished. Maybe just once…

_NO! You must obey! You're already going to be punished so severely for your disobedience, you can't do this._

I looked at the water again, putting my hand in it.

_I've disobeyed a lot…what's one more thing?_

I stepped into the water and sobbed once. I hadn't felt this warm in so long…

--More soon!!--


	6. Silent Lucidity

6

**Silent Lucidity**

_Harrington Farmhouse_

They found bottles of Lorazepam in a drawer. Three were full, four were empty, one was half gone. They found his computer upstairs, but it was password encrypted. They called Garcia to come over and try and open it. It might have evidence of more victims, and possibly what Arthur looked like.

They had found his name and residence on a list of utility bills. His name wasn't in the system, therefore no picture. They had absolutely no idea what he looked like. And the last thing they wanted to do was ask Spencer. The last thing they wanted in the whole world was to make him remember this monster's face.

Garcia walked in the house, looking around.

"Hello?" She squeaked. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to see the small crawlspace where they had found Spencer. She didn't want to be in the same house where he'd been hurt. She didn't want to be anywhere near where that monster had been.

No one answered her. "Hello?"

She heard movement coming from downstairs. She walked toward the open basement door. "Hello?" She took a deep breath and crept down the stairs. She reached the bottom and gasped softly, looking at the shackles on the ground. "Oh, god…Hotch?!"

Hotch stepped out of the other room, quickly closing the door behind him. Penelope didn't need to see _anything_ that was in that room.

"It's upstairs, Garcia," Hotch said, leading her back from where she came. He led her to the back room where the ancient computer sat. Garcia sat in front of it, quickly turning it on and opening her own laptop.

"Alright, this guy hasn't updated his server since 2000. It'll be cake to extract the files on here." She said, trying to smile. She hadn't smiled since they had found Reid earlier today. And it was really starting to wear on her. The shackles she had seen downstairs hadn't helped.

"Tell me if you find anything," Hotch said. She nodded before he left the room.

"Alright, baby, show me what ya got," she said, popping her fingers, which quickly went to work on the keyboard.

She found the files they were looking for and quickly worked her magic to get them opened. She could tell by how much space they took up they were video. And there were tons of them.

She hit the enter key, by passing any password and opening the file.

The screen went black. She panicked, but she only had a few seconds to do so. The video appeared, full screen. She gasped, hand over her mouth in horror, tears sliding helplessly down her face.

"No," She choked. "No, no, no!"

She tried everything she knew to get it to go away. Even turning it off, unplugging it too. But every time it came back on the video was still there. And it would move onto the next one. And the next one, and the next one, and the next one... She heard the screaming, saw the blood and the tears, heard the begging and pleading for mercy. And the constant cries of Master, bad boy and good boy.

"Oh god, stop!" Garcia begged, any and all knowledge of how to get this to shut up whizzing through her mind. "Shut up! God, please, go away!"

Hotch heard her yelling and crying from downstairs. He bolted into the room and saw the distressed technician and heard the noise coming from the computer.

"Master, please, PLEASE! NOT THAT, not that, please! No, nonononono, no! AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!" There were electrical zapping sounds and laughter behind the bloodcurdling scream that brought goosebumps to Hotch's arms.

He ran over and yanked the cord from the wall silencing the horrible screams and removing the images from the screen.

Garcia sobbed into her hands, falling back into the chair. Hotch carefully put his hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her.

"Garcia, it's alright, you don't have to watch that. Someone else will do it, not you, okay?" He said gently. She nodded, sniffing and taking a gulp of air.

"He…he's just a baby…I don't care how old he is, he's just a baby…" she choked. "And the things that…that son of a bitch was doing…Oh, god, Hotch, he raped-"

"I know, I know," Hotch interrupted, not wanting her to finish. "I know what he did. It's alright, Reid is alright."

"I don't know how," Garcia shook her head. "I have no idea how he survived. I don't know how he did-didn't give up. I don't know how he didn't lose his m-mind."

"Thank God, he didn't. Go back to the station, Garcia, get some rest," he urged, helping her stand.

"Okay, okay," she breathed. "Rest, yeah, good idea." She wiped her eyes, shoved her laptop in her bag and fished her car keys out of her purse.

"Are you alright to drive?" Hotch asked. She nodded.

"If I need to pull over I will," she said. Hotch nodded and watched her go to her car.

Garcia managed to start it and drive about a block before she pulled over.

* * *

_Edenton Police Station_

J.J. checked her watch. Spencer had been in the shower for quite sometime. She had set a towel and clothes in front of the shower so he could get dressed when he was done. She took another second of deciding whether or not to go check on him and stood, making her way to the showers.

The water was off when she walked in. There wasn't even any steam, so it had been off for awhile.

"Spence?" She said. She heard a chattering sound from the other side of the curtain. "Spence, are you alright?" She eased the curtain back, not wanting to be rude. She gasped.

He was curled in a ball in the corner, shivering violently, his teeth chattering, face buried in his knees. "Hey," she knelt down in front of him, lifting his chin. She reached behind her and wrapped the towel around his shoulders. He looked up at her; she winced. His lips were blue. "What are you doin', honey?" He tried to answer, but he was shaking too hard. J.J. thought for a moment. She shut her eyes and sighed when it dawned on her. "I told you to just turn the water off when you were done," he nodded. J.J. bit her lip. "Honey, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…From now on you go ahead and dry off and get dressed, alright?"

"O-o-okay," he shivered. "D-d-did I m-m-make you ma-m-m-mad?"

"No, no you didn't do anything wrong, sweetie," she rubbed his shoulders, trying to warm him up.

"I-I wa-was a g-g-goo-good b-boy?" She shut her eyes, holding tears back.

"Yeah, Spence. You were a good boy," she whispered, hugging him and smoothing his damp hair.

* * *

He was dressed and warm. He was sitting on a couch in the nearly empty station next to a pile of books that he was plowing through one by one.

Morgan watched, fascinated as he turned page after page in seconds.

Garcia came in a few seconds later. Her eyes were red and watery. Morgan frowned.

"Baby Girl, what's wrong?" He asked. She didn't answer.

Spencer had looked up too at this point. He followed her with his eyes as she sat down next to him. She looked at him for a beat, her lower lip trembling, before she hugged him close to her and as tight as she could without hurting him. Spencer only tensed for a second before relaxing against her.

Penelope cried into his hair, periodically kissing the top of his head.  
"How are you still here?" She sobbed. "You poor baby…"

"It's alright, Garcia," Spencer said in a small voice. Garcia cried harder. Memories of what she had seen on that monitor flashed in front of her eyes. Those screams in her ears. She sniffed and kissed his forehead.

"You have to be the strongest person I know, Spencer."

"Baby Girl, what's-"

"Morgan," J.J. came around the corner. "Hotch needs us in the sheriff's office," Morgan nodded and stood. J.J. shook her head. "You aren't gonna believe this."

Garcia held Spencer and cried, wanting to keep him safe for forever. She didn't want to let go either. What if someone hurt him?

She looked at him, cupping his cheek in her hand. "You know he can't hurt you anymore, right?"

He folded his lips together, looking at the floor.

"Master will find me. And he will hurt me again," he whispered. Garcia shook her head firmly.

"No, he is not touching you ever again, alright? I swear. We'll get him before he gets that close, alright?"

* * *

I can't believe her. I can't. I can't because I can hear Master's voice, breath hot against my ear, hissing in the dark,

"_I swear, if you ever get away from me, I will hunt you down again, boy. I will get you, and I will beat you so badly for your disobedience you won't be able to see when I'm done. And at night, when I come to Take you, it'll be so hard you'll bleed for days."_  
I whimpered and hid my face against Garcia.

"_I will get you, I will get you, I will get you…"_

--Aw. Poor baby cant catch a break, can he? Dont worry, Morgan and Spencer will have their moments, i promise! Feedback plz!--


	7. Torture

7

**Torture**

"No, don't, please…please…no, no, NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Laughter.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Sobs and whimpers.

"P-please, no, no more."

A blood covered instrument dancing back and forth in front of innocent, tear-filled eyes.

"Master, please…No more. I'll b-be a goo-good boy. Pl-please!" Begging, desperate, helpless.

"You've been a very bad boy. You're being punished. That's what happens when you're a bad boy. You get punished."

"I'm s-sorry, I-I'll be a g-good boy. Pl-please, don't hurt me anymore!" The bloodied tool moves out of sight. Just the face remains. Tears falling down the cheeks. Lips blood stained, gasps and whimpers falling past them. The chaste eyes close, cringing. The gasps quicken, the whimpers turn into small screams and sobs. The lips tremble, the eyes look at the camera, as if begging for it to help.

"Please…ohoh!"

J.J. turned away, unable to look anymore. Hotch bowed his head. Both Rossi and Gideon were staring at their hands, frowning. Prentiss couldn't look away, no matter how much she wanted to she couldn't move. Morgan, who had been leaning against the doorframe, turned and hit it as hard as he could repeatedly.

"Tell me we are gonna find this guy and tear him apart!" He bellowed over the crying on the screen. He was so angry. He wanted to wring this man's neck with his bare hands for what he did to Spencer, all of those horrible, horrible, damnable things.

Hotch completely understood what Garcia had meant, now. He had no idea how Spencer lived through that. How he kept his sanity and didn't give up.

"We have his face, now," Gideon said quietly. "We can put out an APB for his arrest."

"I'll set up a press conference," J.J. said, wiping her eyes and leaving the room.

Prentiss finally managed to look away.

"He's watching us," Hotch said. "There is no way he'd have Reid far away from him at any time. He'd have to be close."

"Then let's go find the son of a bitch!" Morgan snarled.

"Morgan, you have to stay calm. What will Reid do if he sees you like this?" Morgan unclenched his fists. "He'll be scared to death of you. Just take a minute to breathe." Morgan nodded, taking a deep breath.

"We'll have to stay here tonight. We can take turns keeping watch, but there is no way we're leaving him here alone or taking him with just one of us," Hotch said. The team nodded.

"And honestly, I think we all need to be there for him right now."

* * *

Garcia noticed Spencer dozing and smiled a little.

"Are you tired, baby?" She asked. He looked up at her, eyes sleepy, and nodded. She stood, motioning for him to follow her. She walked into the empty office she had commandeered for him to sleep in. There was a cot resting against the far wall that Garcia had taken the time to make comfortable so Spencer didn't get stabbed by the springs underneath.

"You can sleep over there, sugar. I'm gonna see if I can find a water bottle, okay?" She said. He nodded.

When Garcia came back she expected to see him either lying down or sitting on the bed. She was very wrong.

He was lying on the floor, curled in a ball, his eyes closed. She knelt down next to him, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Spencer, honey, what are you doing?" He looked up at her, confused.

"Did, did I not do what you t-told me? Did I, did I disobey?"

"No, you just misunderstood," Garcia said quietly. "I meant you can sleep up here, baby." Spencer sat up and looked at the cot, wide eyed, scared.

"I can't," he breathed, shaking his head. "I'm no-not permitted to-"

"Well, I'm giving you permission," Garcia said, smiling. "If your master has a problem with it he can take it up with me." She was trying to make him smile, but it had the opposite effect.

His innocent eyes filled with tears and his lower lip trembled. He shook his head.

"No, no, I won't let Master hurt you! You can't, you can't-"

"Okay, okay, shh, shhh, it's alright, Spencer. I didn't mean…I was just joking sweetie," she said, her heart aching at the sight of his tears. He wasn't laughing. He was confused. "You can sleep up here, baby. No one's gonna hurt you for it, alright? I promise."

She helped him stand. He hesitated, looking at the cot warily.

"It's okay, Spencer."

* * *

_Don't. Don't do it, you know what Master will do! _

I didn't care anymore. I had done so much to warrant punishment. And all I had slept on was a concrete floor. This floor had been far more comfortable than the one at Master's house. This one had carpet.

I stared at the bed, hesitating.

"It's alright," Garcia assured. I sat down and slowly, very slowly, lied down. I gasped quietly, unable to believe how soft it was. I buried my face in the pillow and shut my eyes, sighing.

Penelope smoothed my hair off of my forehead. "There's water here if you want it, alright?" I nodded, unable to open my eyes. I was so tired…

* * *

"Spencer?" Garcia said. He didn't answer. She smiled at him, smoothing his hair back again.

"He alright?" She jumped, gasping. "Sorry," Morgan said.  
"You can't sneak up on me like that, Gorgeous," She breathed.

"Sorry, Baby Girl," Morgan said.

"He's okay. He's tired."

Morgan looked at his sleeping friend, who looked peaceful for the first time since he'd found him.

"At least he can rest now," he said, pushing the images he had seen minutes before out of his mind.

"He always looks so sad," Garcia said, her voice cracking just a little. "No, no he looks like a puppy that's been kicked too many times." Morgan nodded.

"I'm gonna stay with him," he said. "You should go get some rest, Baby Girl."

She nodded and walked out of the room. Morgan grabbed a chair and set it next to the bed.

"You're gonna be alright, kid," he whispered.

But Spencer wasn't okay, he was far from okay.

He was being tortured again, only this time, by his subconscious.

--Feedback plz!--


	8. Sweet Dreams

8

**Sweet Dreams**

I woke up the next morning, alone. I looked around, shaking a little. I stood, walking slowly toward the door, wary. I didn't want to be punished for leaving the room.

But when I opened the door I heard nothing, saw no one, heard no one.

"Hello?" Me voice shook, echoing in the silence. "M-Morgan?" No answer. Just silence. Pure and utter silence. Except a faint hissing.

I walked toward the only sound, still scared. "Mor-Morgan?" No answer. The sound was coming from the shower room. I heard water running behind the curtains in the stalls, but there was no steam. The water must be cold.

"He-hello?" Still silence, horrible, horrible silence. "M-Morgan?"

"Guess again, boy."

Fear, so strong and abrupt it nearly floored me, filled me instantly, sending my heart to my throat. I started trembling, too scared to move. At the end of the long room, glowering and smiling dangerously at me, Master. He walked toward me slowly, making me shake harder and harder. When he was two yards from me I fell on my hands and knees, assuming my position, keeping my eyes down and shaking violently.

"You've been a bad boy," Master growled. "A very, very bad boy." He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me up. He looked at me, his eyes holding that awful glint.

"You're wearing clothes," he growled. My heart pounded so hard and so fast I thought it would burst. He threw me back, sprawled out and dazed.

He was on top of me a second later. I heard cloth tearing.

"No! Please, please, Master, please!" My shirt was gone. I writhed weakly under his weight, whimpering. More tearing. His hands forced mine down with almost no effort.

"No, no," I begged softly, crying. "Please, Master, please!" I was naked, exposed, vulnerable, ashamed.

He stood, relieving my body of his weight. Before I could do anything he kicked me. Once, twice, three, six, ten times. I coughed hard, curling in a ball both in pain and an attempt to cover myself. To protect myself. There was a crash as the mirror above my head shattered from Master's fist. I cried out and covered my head as glass rained down on me, cutting me. Master laughed, no doubt at how pathetic I looked. He grabbed my hair again, hauling my face up. He pressed a large shard to my cheek, catching a tear.

"Pl-please…" He laughed. He dragged me across the room, mercilessly throwing me into a shower.

I gasped as the icy water doused me, soaking me instantly. He ripped the curtain back so hard it tore it through the loops.

The shard was at my neck, pressing hard enough to draw blood. "I'm gonna punish you good, boy," he said. "And you ain't gonna like it," he smiled. "But I sure will."

He started kissing my face and neck, and that was so much more preferable to what came next. I screamed and cried, begging him to stop touching me, to stop hurting me, stop punishing me. And for someone to help me and save me from this horrible, horrible pain.

"Morgan!" I screamed, begged, prayed. "Help me, please! Oh please, help me! Morgan, please! Please, help! Master…no, no, stop!"

* * *

"Kid, kid, wake up!" Morgan urged quietly. "It's alright, Spencer, it's okay."

"Morgan!" His voice was raw and begging. He was sobbing softly and whimpering. "Master, please, no more. No more, please…Morgan!"

"C'mon kid, wake up! I'm here, I'm here, wake up!"

Spencer sat up, crying hard and looking around in the dark, terrified.

"No," he rasped. "No, please! Morgan!" He didn't see him. Morgan gently put his hand on Spencer's shoulder. The boy yelped and jumped back, just becoming aware of the other presence in the room. He shrunk away from Morgan, burying his face in his hands, hiding.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Morgan said gently. "It's me kid, it's alright now."

"Mo-Morgan?" He looked up from his hands.

"It's alright. I'm here, it's okay," he soothed. Spencer sighed and bowed his head, sobbing. He wrapped his arms around his chest, trying to shake the nightmare with little success. Morgan grimaced at the sight of his disheveled friend, pain tearing at his heart.

He gingerly put his hand on his shoulder. Spencer didn't pull away. Slowly, very slowly, Morgan pulled the younger man into a hug. Spencer tensed and panicked, but only for a moment. He let his head rest against Morgan's chest, his arms folded to his own. Tears fell from his eyes, seeping into Morgan's shirt as he sobbed harder and harder, still so scared he was shaking.

Morgan hugged him tighter, gently rocking him back and forth out of reflex. "Shh…It's okay, Spencer. He can't hurt you anymore," he assured.

"He'll g-get me," Spencer whispered, as if afraid to say it at all. "He'll get m-me. He'll pu-punish me for my d-dis-disobedience."

"Shh…He won't hurt you. We aren't gonna let him get anywhere near you. He's never, _ever_ touching you again. I promise."

Spencer cried, trembling. Morgan held him, marveling at how small he felt, how fragile and breakable. Like a child. He hugged him close, trying to soothe him as best as he could. Spencer welcomed it. He didn't want to be alone anymore, especially in the dark. He wanted to know there was someone close that didn't want to hurt him.

"Morgan…" He sobbed. "Don't leave me. Pl-please don't –"

"Shhhh, I'm not goin' anywhere, kid. I'm not leavin' you."

* * *

I cried for a long time. And Morgan let me. I was scared, so very scared. I knew at any moment I would wake up and be back in that awful room, the chains still on, wounds still fresh, and Master's footsteps on the stairs coming to…to…

No one had punished me since I got here. No one had tried to Take me, no one had tried to hurt me. And they wouldn't be able to if they tried. Not if Morgan were there. Morgan would protect me, Morgan would make sure that Master didn't punish me. Morgan wouldn't let Master hurt me.

But…but what if-

No, no don't think like that!

What if-

Stop it!

What if Master punished Morgan too?

I hugged Morgan back, crying so hard it hurt.

"Don't hurt him," I cried. "Don't hurt my friend, please…"

"No one's gonna hurt anyone, kid. It's alright."

"Please…Please…Please…"

--Awww...More soon!--


	9. Give Peace a Chance

9

**Give Peace a Chance**

Spencer had nightmares all night. He woke several times, screaming, crying, or in some cases, both.

Morgan stayed with him, soothing him to the best of his ability. But what bothered him the most was that Spencer couldn't get any peace. He couldn't even sleep without this man haunting him, coming for him, beating him, touching him. Not one moment's peace.

"Shh…it's okay, kid. Just sleep. Shh…" But no matter how many times he went back to sleep his mind would not grant him rest.

Which is why he looked so tired this morning. He ate quickly again, jumping whenever someone spoke or moved too quickly. They were sitting in the small break room, most drinking coffee and taking their minds off of the case for a few minutes.

Gideon was leaning against the counter, looking at Spencer. The boy's eyes darted back and forth, deep, bruise colored circles under his eyes. He looked so scared and worn. He walked to him slowly, sitting down next to him and smiling gently. Spencer looked at him warily, instinct telling him that this man could hurt him.

"Hi," he said calmly. Spencer stared back at him. "You don't remember me, do you?" Spencer shook his head, still silent. Gideon nodded. "Okay, that's alright. Do you mind if I asked you some questions that might help you remember?"

"Oh…okay," he said softly, glancing at Morgan, who gave him a reassuring nod.

"What's your name?"

"Spencer Reid," he said quietly. He'd remembered that shortly after leaving the hospital what his name was. He read the bracelet.

"What is the square root of Pi?"

"1.772453851.'

"What is the capital of Bangladesh?"

"Dhaka."

Gideon fired his questions quickly, and Spencer answered them nearly as rapidly.

"What was Satchel Paige's batting average in 1952?"

"46."

"Who sang 'All Along the Watchtower'?"

"Bob Dylan in 1967 and Jimi Hendrix in 1968."

"What are the statistics on serial arsonists?"

"Ninety-four percent are male, seventy-five percent are white and only sixteen percent are caught."

"Who am I?"

"Jason Gideon," Spencer blanched as soon as the words past his lips. Gideon smiled and nodded.

"That's right, that's right, excellent."

"Gideon," he repeated. "Gideon…"

* * *

Memories rushed me, bombarding my mind with images and previous thought.

The basement seemed to unfold me in front of me_._

_It was dark and cold. The collar was clamped around my neck, my wrists were shackled together. I was naked, bleeding and crying, my cheek pressed against the concrete, which was getting wet with tears. His footsteps echoed up the stairs and throughout the house. I was battered and scared, worn down almost completely. I huddled together in shame, pain and cold. I missed Gideon. I needed Gideon. Gideon could help me. Gideon could make Him stop. Gideon could save me._

"_Hel-help me, pl-please. It h-hurts, s-so much. I ca-can't fight h-him anym-more. I c-can't…" I cried, begged. I needed to hear his voice. I needed to hear him tell me it was okay. That I was strong enough to fight. Or that I didn't have to anymore. _

_But nothing happened. No one came to save me. No one answered when I screamed for them. God did not answer my constant prayers for mercy. I had held on for almost three months. I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't take the agony, the fighting, the harsh coolness of abandonment, and being touched against my will day in and day out. I thought giving into Him would be so much easier, would take some of the pain away. So I broke. I let Master break me, I succumbed to whatever Master wanted me to do. I thought it would be easier. I thought it would make Master happy and Master wouldn't punish me so often. And maybe, just maybe, when Master Took me it wouldn't hurt so much. I was wrong. I was so, so very wrong._

_It made Master happy. But he beat me more, punished me more, said I was a Bad Boy more, Took me more, and it was harder, longer, agonizing. But I couldn't go back to fighting. It was just like Master wanted. I was His, and His only._

"_Such a Good Boy, such a Good, Good Boy," Master grunted. I squirmed weakly underneath him, crying._

"_Please, please, Master, gently. Oh, oh, please! __Nohoho…" I begged, sobbing hard. __He backhanded me._

"_Don't you make another sound, boy." _

_I tried, I tried so hard to be quiet. And every time I wasn't, I was hit for it. Hard. And he moved harder._

"_Oh, please, please! OHOH!" _

I don't remember hugging Gideon. Or did he hug me?

* * *

"Shh…" He soothed. "It's alright, it's alright." Spencer was sobbing and shaking.

He'd watched the young boy slip into a flashback, his eyes not focusing on anything, his small, trembling words inaudible, but clearly full of panic, fear and pain. Tears had simply started to fall from his eyes like rain. He hadn't sobbed for a few minutes, but once he started it built and built. Gideon held him tight while he cried, trying to calm his many, many fears. Spencer leaned against him, crying into his chest.

"No, no, no, please, I'm sorry, no!" He whimpered softly.

Gideon pulled back, lifting Spencer's face, trying to snap him out of it and gain his attention.

"Spencer, look at me…Look at me," he urged. "C'mon, Spencer, look at me!" Spencer blinked a few times before looking at Gideon, his focus back, almost.

"No, n-n-no, please! Don't, M-Master, I'm s-sorry, ple-please!" He pleaded.

"No, Spencer, it's Gideon," he said urgently. "It's Gideon, I won't hurt you." Spencer stopped his weak struggle.

"G-Gideon?" His eyes were so pure it hurt to look at him.

"Yes, it's me. He can't hurt you anymore, alright?" He said, hugging him again.

"Ev-everyone keeps telling me th-that," Spencer trembled.

"It's the truth," Gideon swore. "We won't let him hurt you."

"I c-can't belie-ve you. I ca-can't. M-Master wi-will not st-stop looking for m-me."

"When we catch him, will you believe us then?" Spencer nodded. "Then we will find him. We'll give you peace, Spencer. I promise."

Spencer cried for a long time. Until he finally cried himself to sleep.

--Thank you. Please Review :) --


	10. Smooth Criminal

10

**Smooth Criminal**

"Is he alright?" Hotch asked as Gideon walked into the Conference Room.

"He's asleep. For how long, I'm not sure," he said, looking at the board filled with maps and pictures of deceased boys. "Do we have anything, anything at all on this monster?"

"There's only one resource we haven't used," the lead detective for Edenton, Detective Arnold, said. There was an instant uproar.

"No," J.J. said immediately, shaking her head.

"Absolutely not," Emily agreed.

"There is no way we're making him talk about that!" Morgan barked. Rossi shook his head. Hotch said nothing. Morgan stared at him, outraged. "Hotch, you're not serious, are you? We can't do that to him! We can't make him remember something like that!"

"What other choice do we have, Morgan? If we want to catch this guy, this is what we have to do," Hotch said regretfully. Morgan shook his head.

"No, no, I won't let you. I won't let you do that to him," he said firmly. Hotch opened his mouth to speak, frowning. Gideon cut him off.

"Ask him," he said simply.

"What?!" Hotch and Morgan said in unison.

"Ask him what he wants to do. If he doesn't want to talk about it, then he won't. If he does, then he can tell us anything he wants to," he explained.

"I guess we should wait for him to wake up," Prentiss said quietly, calming the tense mood. Morgan relaxed and sat back down.

A deputy walked into the room and whispered something to Detective Arnold. Arnold sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"You're kidding, right?" He whispered. The deputy shook his head. He bowed his head again. "Damn it."

"What happened?" Rossi asked.

"They just found another boy."

"What?!" Everyone in the room exclaimed.

"They found the body of another kid. Matt Larsky, 22. They found him near Roanoke River."

"Great," Morgan said, throwing his hands up.

"Morgan, Prentiss, come with me," Hotch said grimly. "If he's killing again it's to send us a message."

"Of course it is. He wants Spencer back," Gideon stated.

"He's not getting him," Morgan said defensively.

"Then let's go."

* * *

_Roanoke River, Edenton_

Matt Larsky had died rather quickly. His beating was brutal and full of anger. The other bodies had literally been tossed away, left to rot in wherever they fell. He took no time bothering with remorse. They were merely toys he got bored with and threw away. Each boy was found clothed with deep ligatures on their wrists; cause of death, exsanguination.

Matthew Larsky was a different matter entirely. He was laid out carefully, neatly. He'd been beaten to death. He was naked, and there were serious signs of sexual assault.

"Without Spencer, he has no outlet," Hotch said, looking at the poor boy. "And he's angry."

"That's putting it lightly," Prentiss said quietly. Morgan was looking at the body too, frowning.

"Guys," he bent down, taking a piece of paper off the ground. He read it quickly, his frown growing to a deep scowl, eyes filling with boiling hate.

He gave the paper to Hotch, hands shaking with anger.

_Give me what's rightfully mine. More will die if you don't._

"This killing was for us," he said darkly, "not for him. He's trying to scare us into giving him Spencer."

"That son of a bitch is dead, I swear to God…" He turned around, flexing his jaw and clenching his fists.

This man had done the most horrible things imaginable to his best friend. He'd sworn a long time ago to watch out for Spencer. Not that he was helpless, but he was just accident prone. A few years ago he would have laughed at the thought. Not now.

"Morgan-" Hotch began, warning in his tone.

"What do you want me to say, Hotch?! You saw what that bastard did to Reid; you've seen how he is now! And, what, you want me to be satisfied with him simply being arrested?! No, I won't be happy until this son of a bitch is dead!" He bellowed, his voice echoing through the forest around them. Prentiss and Arnold looked between Hotch and Morgan, waiting.

"Neither will I," Hotch said. Morgan and Emily blanched. "I want this man dead just as badly as you do, but that's not our decision to make. Our job is to catch him." Morgan looked at the ground, taking a deep breath before he spoke again.

"Hotch, Reid will never be able to sleep, or move on unless that man is off of this Earth. He'll be scared for the rest of his life, looking over his shoulder, watching what he says and does, unable to do certain things because he thinks he isn't supposed to. He'll be afraid to make a move or say anything because he thinks he'll be punished. He'll worry about whether he's being a Good Boy or not. And that son of a bitch will come for him every night in his sleep."

"We can't kill him, Morgan. And I don't think Reid would want you to." Morgan shut his eyes, bowing his head.

"I know," he whispered.

"Let's focus on the case, guys," Prentiss suggested. "We need to treat this as normally as possible. For everyone's sake." Hotch nodded.

"She's right," he agreed. "Let's get back to work."

* * *

_Edenton Police Station_

"He's going to have to keep an eye on this place. And if he doesn't know where Spencer is yet, he'll find him very soon," Gideon said.

"Well isn't that just great," Garcia grumbled. "We're gonna make sure this monster stays the hell away from him, right?"

"We'll do everything in our power to keep Spencer safe," Gideon promised. J.J. looked up at the board, at all of the young boys. She wondered if they hadn't found Spencer when they did if he'd be up here now. She shook her head, taking the awful images with it. She glanced out the door.

He was standing in the middle of the room, looking scared, shaking lightly while everyone around him kept walking.

"Spencer," she called. He jumped and looked at her.

_God, he looks so tired,_ she thought miserably.

"In here, sweetheart." He nodded and walked toward her, into the small office. "Why are you up, honey?" She asked gently. He looked at the floor, chewing his lip, which was trembling.

"N-nightmare," he whispered. J.J. hugged him, expression pained. She let him go a few moments later. He sniffed and looked up at the board, at the dead boys.

"Spencer, don't look at those," Gideon said, trying to turn him away. Spencer didn't move. His eyes filled with tears, his lips trembled harder, as did the rest of his body.

"No," he barely made a sound, shaking his head, "no…"

"What's wrong?" Gideon asked. "Do you recognize them?" Spencer nodded without looking at him. A tear fell down his cheek. "Do you know who killed them?" He nodded again, taking a small, shaking breath.

"I did."

--Whoa!!!!--


	11. What I've Done

11

**What I've Done**

"I did." The room froze. Spencer looked at J.J. "Where are the others?"

"O-others?" She stammered. Gideon had his phone pressed to his ear.

"Hotch, get back here now…It's Spencer…I'll explain when you get here," He hung up. J.J. guided Spencer into a chair, feeling his shaking arms under her hands. Gideon sat down in front of him, deeply concerned and very worried.

"Did you say there were more victims than we have up there?" He asked gently. Spencer nodded, glancing from the board to Gideon. "Hey," he put his hand on his shoulder, gaining his attention, "it's alright. Just talk to me, alright?"

"Oh…okay," he said quietly. Gideon smiled lightly.

"Okay. How many more are there?" Spencer looked up, thinking.

"Three," he choked. Gideon's brows rose.

Hotch came in with Morgan, Prentiss and Detective Arnold, looking as confused and worried as Gideon was. Morgan went over to Garcia with Emily to see what was wrong.

Spencer watched as Gideon stood and whispered incoherently to Hotch. He sat there, shaking, waiting. They would punish him for this. Even they couldn't deny it this time. He had been a very Bad Boy.

Hotch sat down in front of him. Spencer shrunk away a little. He noticed the younger man's discomfort and fear and smiled gently.

"Do you remember me?" He nodded. He remembered Hotch, but he also remembered Hotch could punish him if he wanted. He could punish him if he was bad. "Alright. Now, what did you mean you killed them?" Spencer's lower lip trembled, his eyes filled with tears.

"I killed them…"

* * *

_Master thundered down the stairs. I got on my hands and knees, knowing I would be punished severely if I didn't. There was blood on Master's hands and He looked very angry._

"_You've been a very, very Bad Boy," Master growled. His boot hit my back, flooring me. I coughed while Master unshackled my hands and undid the chain from the wall. He grabbed my hair, making me yelp as he hauled me up into a standing position. He dragged me up the stairs by my neck, backhanding me when I tripped. He shoved me outside. _

_I went blind. The sunlight was so harsh and so bright I couldn't see. I fell, unable to open my eyes. Master pulled me up, just using the chain connected to the collar, choking me. My vision slowly started to clear. _

_The heat of the early afternoon filled my lungs, dry and boiling. Master was dragging me toward a tree. He threw me down in front of it, tightening ropes around my wrists. I was still blinking and squinting against the light, trying so hard to see. The collar came off of my neck. Master grabbed my hair, forcing my face up._

"_You see what you made me do?!" I could see now. I saw a man, probably my age or a little older about five feet in front of me, bloody and beaten horribly, but still alive. "YOU SEE WHAT YOU MADE ME DO?!" _

_The boy jumped and shut his eyes, crying into the duck tape over his mouth. He looked very, very scared. His gray eyes were wide and with tears, his body shaking._

"_I-I am sorry, M-Master," I croaked. He slammed my face into the dirt._

"_You stay here with Tommy. You watch what you did." Master ripped the duck tape off of Tommy's mouth, scaring him more. I winced. I didn't want him to be scared. _

_I was alone with Tommy. "Wh-who are you?" He rasped. _

"_No one," I answered immediately. Tommy sniffed, tears leaking from his eyes, crying into the dirt. I looked around, making sure Master wasn't close. If He heard me… "I'm Spencer," I whispered. He looked at me, breath hitching in his chest as he tried to breathe._

"_I'm Tommy," he said quietly. His southern accent was thick; his dirty blonde hair was matted with blood. He cringed, digging his forehead into the ground. "God, it hurts." _

"_It-it'll be okay," I assured weakly. I twisted my wrists, wanting to help him desperately. _

"_He's going to k-kill me, isn't he?" I couldn't answer him. I didn't know. I didn't know if Master was going to keep him like he kept me. I didn't want him to. He would hurt Tommy greatly. I didn't want him to get punished. I didn't want Master to say he was a Bad Boy. I didn't want Master to Take him. That was the last thing I wanted. _

_It was a long time before Master came back. I had been trying to tell Tommy that it was okay, that he could go home soon. But I knew by the glint in Master's eyes that he wasn't going anywhere. Master was beating him, hurting him, making him whimper and cry. _

"_No!" I screamed. "Please, Master, please don't hurt him! Hurt me! Punish me, Master, please!" He took out a knife. "_NO!_" It went into Tommy's stomach so easily. So very easily. He gasped, unable to breathe with the blade inside him. The knife slid out slowly. Master was grinning. _

_I collapsed, crying. Tommy didn't do anything wrong. Tommy was a Good Boy. He was going to school. He had a girlfriend he was going to marry soon. He told me so._

_Now he was coughing up blood, sputtering and gasping. Master left again, laughing at the crying boy. _

"_No!" I sobbed, jerking forward; tearing my raw wrists and making them bleed. Tommy looked at me, growing paler and paler. "Tommy, it's okay, it's okay..." He was trying to talk, but he couldn't. He was crying, breath ragged and wet. He was dying._

_It took fifteen minutes. I watched the light leave his eyes and the blood seep into the dirt, catching the evening light. _

_I cried for a long time. I cried until it was dark. Just me and Tommy's corpse._

"_You killed him," Master growled in my ear. "You killed him. Say it."_

"_I killed him," I trembled. "I-I killed him."_

_Master dragged me away from Tommy, kicking me hard when I fought to stay near him. He didn't need to be left out in the dark, out in the cold. _

_Master put the collar back on and shackled my hands. He looked at me for a moment, grabbing a handful to get a full view of my face. He kissed my cheek, then licked the tears off of my face. I whimpered and weakly tried to get away, even thought I knew it was pointless. I was thrown to the floor and he was on top of me, touching, kissing, probing. I tried to shut my eyes, but every time I did, I saw Tommy's face._

* * *

I looked at the pictures again. Tommy wasn't up there. Neither was Jake, or Alex. But Eric was up there. So was Jared and Dylan and Tyler.

I remembered how they all died so vividly. Jake screamed and screamed until the second he died. Alex had hardly made a sound. He was beaten so badly he could barely speak. He told me it was okay when I cried. He didn't seem to be very scared. Tyler tried to get away and begged me to help him. I hated myself for not being able to, and I fought as hard as I could to get myself free. Eric had a hard time believing what was happening. Jared, in his delirium and fear, cried for his mother. Dylan fought back against Master as much as he could. He died the quickest.

I'd killed them all. It was my fault they all died. I killed them. I killed them…and now Hotch was going to punish me for what I had done. And I deserved every second of it.

* * *

"I-I am so sorry, Hotch," he was shaking, crying. "I kn-know I must be pu-punished for what I ha-have done. Pl-please, have mercy, please…"

Hotch couldn't believe what he was hearing. This monster had convinced Spencer that he had killed these people when he hadn't laid a hand on any of them. And now Spencer thought he should be punished for it. Punished for something he didn't even do.

The boy bowed his head, sobbing. "F-forgive me. Ple-please, forgive me." Hotch hugged him. He couldn't sit there and watch his friend suffer like this.

"You're not going to be punished, Spencer," he said. "You didn't do anything wrong." The boy shook his head.

"No, no, I ki-killed-"

"Shh…stop. You didn't kill anyone. He killed those people, not you. It was not your fault, you did _nothing_ wrong. I promise. No one is going to punish you. Shh…"

The others in the room were just as horrified and disgusted with what Spencer had told them as Hotch was.

Morgan looked angry enough to murder the next person who spoke to him.

"I'm gonna slaughter that son of a bitch with my bare hands," he whispered. Garcia put her hand on his shoulder.

"Shh…You didn't hurt anyone Spencer. You didn't hurt anybody."

"I am so sorry," Spencer said softly. But he wasn't talking to Hotch. He wasn't talking to anyone in the room. He was talking to Tommy. And Alex, and Jake, and Jared and Eric, and Dylan and Tyler. The men he'd let die.

--By a show of hands, who wants this SOB dead?!--


	12. You're My Best Friend

--**NO SLASH **intended--

12

**You're My Best Friend**

Gideon took Spencer out of the room to calm down. Hotch sighed, shaking his head.

Garcia was wiping her eyes, sniffing. "How could someone be so awful? He…he's never hurt anybody. And this, this sick SOB mad him think that he killed those boys. Those poor boys…And he…" She trailed off, turning her face away.

"Garcia," Hotch said gently, "I need you to see if you can find anything on the other victims Reid mentioned." She nodded, giving him a thumbs up.

"J.J., I need you to give a press conference. After you give the profile we need to set up a hotline for anyone that has any information on any other victims we may have missed," he said. J.J. nodded and left the room.

"Dave, Prentiss, we're going to give the profile." Morgan frowned.

"What am I supposed to do?" He asked. Hotch turned to him, looking serious.

"Take a break. Get a drink, take a walk, I don't care. Just calm down. I need your head in this, Morgan. And you're too angry to have conscious judgment. Go cool off," Hotch explained quietly.

"Okay," Morgan said, flexing his jaw. He couldn't deny what Hotch was saying. He was angry. In fact he'd never been more angry in his life. His vision was almost red-rimmed, fists clenched, teeth grinding. His best friend…that son of a bitch beat, raped and methodically tortured his best friend. And he got off on it. He'd mentally, emotionally, physically and sexually abused a boy a boy that had never said a bad word about anyone. He was almost totally innocent, and it made Morgan homicidal to even think about it.

How could someone hurt him? How could someone look into his wide, tear-filled eyes, hear him begging desperately for just an ounce of the agony to stop, see him trembling like a leaf, so scared there weren't words for it and still manage to hurt him. He didn't understand it.

He took Hotch's advice and went for a walk. And he walked, and walked, and walked, and walked. Nothing took the edge off. He was still as angry as he was when he left. He came back into the station, fuming. He walked into an empty office, taking heavy deep breaths. He looked at the wall in front of him. He punched it. Over and over and over again. He lost count of how many times he hit it.

"DAMN IT!" He bellowed.

He failed to hear the small, "Morgan?" on the other side of the room. He didn't hear the soft whimpers when he hit the wall. He didn't see Spencer start shaking and slide down the wall he had backed against, chest rising and falling rapidly, tears in his eyes. He was scared.

Morgan rested against the wall he had effectively beat the crap out of, breathing hard. He heard a whimper. He turned his head in the direction of the noise. His eyes grew, his stomach sank.

Spencer was trembling, curled against the wall. He looked confused and terrified and most of all, hurt.

Morgan's heart twisted. _What have I done?_ He thought, horrified.

He went to him, wincing when he whimpered and shrunk away from him.

"Hey, easy, kid, easy," he said gently, reaching out to him. "It's okay, I didn't mean-" He touched his shoulder. Spencer sobbed and pulled away. So scared… "Shh, sh, no, no, it's okay. It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you. It's alright." He reached for him again. He shrunk further away, as if he was trying to go through the wall itself.

"Pl-please, Morgan, I-I am sorry. D-don't punish me, pl-please. I am s-s-sorry, please I'll-I'll be a G-Good Boy. I pr-promise. Please," he begged. Morgan shook his head, heart taking another hit.

"No, no you didn't do anything wrong," he reached for him. Spencer whimpered and shut his eyes, flinching away. Morgan shut his eyes, lowering his hand. "Kid, it's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm never gonna hurt you, no one here is. And I'm not mad at you. You didn't do anything wrong, Spencer. I promise," he tried one last time, lifting Spencer's chin. Surprisingly, the boy let him. "I am not mad at you, kid. I'm mad at the son of a bitch that hurt you. You didn't do anything bad, okay? You…you were a…a Good Boy." Morgan slowly moved to hug him. Spencer suddenly wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tight, crying.

He was glad Morgan wasn't going to hurt him. He was glad Morgan really was his friend. He was glad he wasn't going to be punished.

"I'm tired of being scared, Morgan," he sobbed. "I don't want to be scared anymore. I'm tired of crying."

"Shh…it's okay, it's okay. You've got every reason to cry, kid. It's okay."

"Don't kill Master, Morgan," he whispered. Morgan frowned.

"Why?" He asked gently.

"If you do, you'll be just like him," the younger man breathed. "Please, don't be Master…Please." Morgan shut his eyes, nodding.

"Okay. I won't, kid. I won't be him." Spencer cried for awhile, hugging the friend he knew would always be there for him. His best friend.

The door opened. Spencer jumped. Morgan looked up.

Prentiss stared back at him, her expression saying she needed to talk to him. He nodded and turned back to Spencer.

"You want to go see Garcia?" He asked. Spencer nodded and stood, leaving the room, wiping his eyes.

Morgan looked at Emily.

"Something wrong?" He asked. She glanced over his shoulder at the battered wall.

"I don't know, is there?" She asked. Morgan sighed.

"It was either the wall or someone else," he said. "I scared Spencer." Emily frowned, pursing her lips.

"Is he alright?" She asked. He nodded.

"So, is there something wrong?" He asked. Prentiss barked an exasperated laugh.

"It's not necessarily wrong. But it adds to the load, that's for sure," she said. Morgan frowned.

"We didn't find any other victims, did we?" He inquired, worried about the answer. She laughed again.

"No, no other victims. We, we found a survivor."

--i know its short, sorry :( More soon!--


	13. I'm A Survivor

--**WARNING!** This Chap Rated **M--**

13

**I'm a Survivor**

Garcia had pages upon pages of pictures of boys on the computers in front of her. Several by the names Spencer had given them had gone missing in the past two years. She couldn't identify them. But Spencer could. She didn't want to ask him to, but she had no other choice. The families deserved to know where their children were.

Almost as if he heard her thinking, h came up behind her. He was looking at the screens, at all of the missing boys.

"Do you recognize any of them?" She asked gently. He nodded. "Can you show me?" Spencer's eyes darted back and forth, rapidly finding the right faces. He found Tommy. And Jake. And Alex. He swallowed hard, breath rapid as he pointed at each of them.

"Thank you," she said, smiling lightly at him. But he wasn't smiling. He was trembling, staring at their faces.

It was strange, seeing them smile and free of blood or pain. Just looking at them made his stomach turn, and guilt, so strong it was overwhelming flooded through him.

_You didn't do anything,_ he told himself harshly. _They said so. They said you didn't do anything to them. It wasn't your fault._

He wanted to believe it, but it was so hard. So hard…

He was breathing too hard and too fast. He started to get dizzy.

"Hey, hey, easy, sugar," Garcia said, seeing his panicked state. She guided him into a chair, her hand on his back. "It's okay, it's alright."

"I'm sorry," he said shakily. "I just…seeing their faces…" He stared down at his hands. She sat in front of him, putting a hand on his knee.

"I know, sweetheart, I know," she said soothingly.

"I…I can't get their faces out of my head," he said, tears welling in his eyes.

"Shh, hey," she hugged him, "It's alright. Everything's gonna be okay."

"It won't go away. I just want it to go away," he said, his voice raw.

"Shh…" She rocked him gently. After awhile he pulled away, wiping his eyes and angry at himself for crying again.

"I'll be alright," he assured. "I have been so far." She smiled sadly at him.

"Spencer," they turned in the direction of the voice. "Can you come with me?" Gideon asked. Spencer nodded and stood, following him.

"Did, did I do s-something wrong?" He asked nervously.

"No, of course not," Gideon said, smiling to reassure him. "I need to ask you something."

They went into a small room with a big window on the wall to their left. Spencer looked around in the dark and out of the glass. He froze.

There was a young man sitting at a metal table in a large room, staring at his hands.

"Do you know him?" Said Gideon quietly. Spencer nodded, his eyes not leaving the boy.

"He made it," he breathed, "Caleb made it."

* * *

Caleb Davis sat in the interrogation room, tapping his fingers, nervous. He glanced at the two-way mirror, wondering who was on the other side, or if there was anyone behind it.

The door opened and the big black guy that had talked to him earlier came in along with another guy with a goatee.

"Caleb, I'm Agent Morgan. And this is Agent Rossi. You wanted to talk to us?" Caleb nodded. "You said you got away from Harrington, is that right?"

"Yeah," Caleb said quietly. "It happened about eight months ago."

"How old are you?" Rossi asked. Caleb stared at him. "Just out of curiosity.

"Uh, I just turned twenty a week ago," he mumbled. Both agents frowned, confused.

"I was at a bar when he saw me. I…I had a fake I.D. I thought I was cool, especially when the bartender bought it," he shook his head. "I was stupid. I didn't even pay attention to him. I was sitting next to him at the bar. He said hi to me, that was about it.

"I left a little while later, buzzed really bad, but not drunk. I was walking home, 'cause I didn't wanna wreck my car because I was drinking, ya know? He hit me over the head with something. I have no idea what, but it knocked me out.

"I woke up the next morning. He started hitting me as soon as my eyes opened. It took me a minute to realize what the hell was going on. He kicked me mostly, my ribs and my face. It was hot out, my hands were tied behind my back. He was laughing at me. Or, I think he was. I could hear someone else, crying and begging him to stop. I tried acting more hurt than I actually was to see if it would make him stop. It worked. He left. I couldn't see where he went but I heard a door close a long ways off. I was dizzy for a minute.

"I could still hear the crying. I turned me head, and there he was."

* * *

_I looked at the beaten boy, sobbing softly. I'd watched Master beat him, feeling horrible for what I had done. He looked so young. _

_I was tied to to the tree, yanking on the rope that led from it and the one that was wrapped around my wrists. It may have been pointless, but I had to try._

_He blinked a few times against the harsh sunlight, blood dripping from his temple before he looked at me._

* * *

"He looked like he'd been beat up recently. He was bruised all over, and a little bloody. He looked like he'd been crying for awhile. He was shaking, and naked. I had no idea who he was or where he came from, but I knew he was worse off than I was."

"What makes you say that?" Rossi asked.

"You could tell just by lookin' at him. And listening to how he talked," Caleb said.

"What do you mean?" Morgan asked.

"He didn't call the guy by his name. He called him Master."

* * *

"_Wh-what's your name?" The boy asked. His voice was stronger than I expected it to be. He'd looked more hurt than this. He'd faked it, which was a smart thing to do. _

"_Spencer," I dared to breathe. He nodded._

"_I'm Caleb," he said, louder than I was allowed to speak._

"_Shh!" I exclaimed. "M-Master will p-punish you if he hear-hears you. D-Don't let hi-him hear you." _

"_Okay," he nodded. "I'll be quiet." He looked around, twisting his wrists. _

"_Where are we?"_

"_I don't know," I said truthfully. I looked at him, at how young he was. "How old are you?" _

"_Nineteen." I felt new tears welling in my eyes, new guilt washing over me. He was too young. I wouldn't let Master hurt him. I wouldn't let him punish him, or Take him. And I was not going to let him kill him. _

"_I'm going to help you," I said, twisting my wrists and pulling desperately. It hurt, it hurt badly, but I had to keep going._

* * *

"Spencer tried to get himself untied. He tried for a couple hours, until that guy, um…"

"Harrington," Morgan finished.

"Yeah, him," Caleb continued. "He came out again."

* * *

_I heard Master's screen door close a few hundred yards away and I froze. Caleb looked in the direction of the noise. _

"_Act hurt!" I urged quietly. "Please, you'll live longer if you do. He won't punish you as bad!" _

_Master came to me first while Caleb pretended to groan. He grabbed my hair, making me look at Caleb._

"_You watch real close, boy. You watch what I do to him because of you. It's all your fault," he hissed. I whimpered. I was scared, not for myself, but for Caleb._

_Master grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him up halfway. He touched his cheek, caressing his face. I knew what that meant._

"_He's a pretty one, isn't he?" He grinned at me. He dropped Caleb to the ground, kicking him so he was lying on his stomach._

"_NO!" I pleaded weakly. "Take me, Master, please, TAKE ME INSTEAD!" Master stepped away from Caleb, still grinning. _

"_If you want it, boy."_

* * *

"I shut my eyes," Caleb said quietly. "But, I…I could still hear him…crying, begging, whimpering…It hurt him, a lot. But he didn't ask the guy to stop. He…god, he asked him…he asked him to be gentle. He told that psychotic son of a bitch to do that to him. He asked him to so he wouldn't do it for me. And I had just met Spencer and…and he does that for me. What kind of person does that for someone they don't even know?" Caleb bowed his head, tears in his eyes.

"A good one," Morgan answered quietly.

* * *

_I just wanted him to not do it so hard. I wanted it to hurt just a little less. "Please, Master, gently, please!" He replied by hitting me and moving harder. I sobbed louder, turning my face away when he kissed it. I shut my eyes, thanking God that Caleb's eyes were shut tight. I cried, I whimpered, I waited for it to end._

_Master got off of me, refastening his pants, leaving me shaking, crying and sweating in the dirt._

"_Good Boy," he said in a low voice, smiling at me. "Good Boy." _

_Taking me must've taken his mind away from hurting Caleb. He went back to his house, leaving us alone once more._

"_Are, are you okay?" He asked in a small voice. I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat while tears fell silently down my cheeks. _

_I pushed myself up into a kneeling position with difficulty and started working on the ropes again. _

"_I'm go-going to get you ou-out of here. I wo-won't let him ki-kill you."_

* * *

"I didn't think he'd actually do it. I was so sure I was gonna die there."

"But you're here now," Rossi stated. Caleb nodded grimly.

"It was a miracle."

* * *

_It was around seven when it happened. The sky was pink and yellow, but it was still hot out. My hands were so bloody they slipped through the ropes. The cuts stung horribly, but I couldn't feel my fingers._

"_I did it," I whispered, daring to smile for the first time in years. Caleb's eyes were wide, like he couldn't believe it either._

"_Holy shit, you did," he breathed. _

_I ran behind him, hurriedly untying his wrists. Master would be coming soon. He would be coming to kill him. I had to work fast. The ropes came undone and I helped him stand up. His legs were a little shaky, but he could run. He could get away._

"_Go," I urged. "Run away from here as fast as you can and don't look back!" _

"_What? No, you're coming with me," he said, reaching for my arm. _

"_I can't!" I said, glancing at the house. "Please, leave, and don't tell anyone about this. Don't tell them about Master, please," I begged._

"_Why?" He frowned._

"_Because Master will find you and kill you…and he'll kill me too. Please." _

"_Okay," he resolved, "okay, I won't, I won't."_

"_Go!" I pushed him in the direction he needed to go. "Just run that way, I know there's a road there. GO!" _

_He hesitated a second longer before running. I waited until he was out of sight for more than fifteen minutes before sighing, relieved. He was gone. He was safe. _

_The screen door opened. Master came out of the house. _

* * *

"I did what he told me to. I ran, I ran as fast as I could go for as long as I could manage. I heard him scream, long, loud, and it stopped abruptly. I knew…I knew he had killed him. And his blood was literally on my hands. But I did as he asked. I didn't look back, and I didn't tell anyone. Not until today," Caleb finished, tears falling onto the table. "I saw him on the news and I had to tell someone about Spencer. You guys didn't list him as one of the victims, and the last thing I want is for no one to know who he was. He saved my life. He's a hero."

* * *

_I stopped screaming, gripping my arm, looking up at Master. He had broken it. He dragged me back to the house by my hair and threw me down the stairs. _

"_YOU LITTLE FUCKER!" He bellowed. "I OUGHTA KILL YOU!" He thundered down to where I lay, gasping and coughing. _

_He took me to The Room._

"_No, Master, please! Please, not here, please!" I begged. _

_He threw me next to the tub, grabbed my hair and shoved my head under the water. The bubbles had almost stopped before he took me out of the freezing water. He strapped me down to the metal table and shoved a cattle prod against my skin over and over again, all over my body. _Everywhere_. _

_He beat me until I was so bloody and bruised I was sure I would die. _

_He chained me up and left me coughing and wheezing for air. I hurt everywhere. I'd had every possible thing happen to me in the past few hours. But it was worth it. Caleb got away. Caleb was alive. I hoped. I prayed. _

_I had done something good. I had saved one of them. I was a Good Boy…_

No, no you're a Bad Boy for disobeying Master. You are a very, very Bad Boy.

_I'm a Bad Boy…_

* * *

"He made it," Spencer breathed, smiling for the first time since they'd found him. Gideon smiled too. Caleb stood to leave, shaking Morgan and Rossi's hands and taking a card with Morgan's cell phone number on it in case he remembered anything else.

He walked out of the interrogation room, wiping his eyes. Spencer left the small room, not sure why he was.

Caleb saw him.

"Oh…oh my god," he said, grinning. "They weren't lying. You're okay." Spencer nodded. Caleb hugged him tight, scaring Spencer for a moment.

"You saved my life," Caleb said, swallowing. "And I never got to say thank you. Thank you so much for what you did."

"I had to," Spencer said. "I would have saved all of you but…I couldn't. I had to save you, Caleb. I just did."

"You're a hero, you know that?" Caleb pulled away from him. Spencer shook his head.

"I'm not a hero. I'm human."

"Take care of yourself, alright?" He said, smiling. Spencer nodded.

"You too."

Caleb left, the only person to survive Arthur Harrington's kidnappings unscathed. Spencer bowed his head, tears slipping down his face. For the first time, he'd beat Master. He'd won.

--More soon!--


	14. Round and Round

--**Warning!: **Strong language ahead--

14

**Round and Round**

Caleb had a patrol car outside his house, just in case. There was no way for Harrington to know about him, but they had to be careful.

Spencer was sitting on the couch, drawn into himself, sipping water.

"_I SWEAR TO GOD, BOY IF A SINGLE COP SHOWS UP I'LL KILL YOU!!" _

"_No-no one will c-come, Ma-Master! I sw-swear!"_

"_THEY BETTER NOT!"_

"_NO, MASTER, PLEEEAASE!" _

He shivered. He hadn't said anything since Caleb had left. Gideon could see him thinking. He watched him get more and more frustrated, despaired by internal conflicts.

_I'm a Good Boy,_ he thought. _I'm a Good Boy because I saved Caleb. No…No I'm a Bad Boy because Master punished me for it. I disobeyed Master. Bad Boy, Bad Boy!_

Gideon sat down next to him, snapping him out of his daze.

"What's the matter, Spencer?" He asked. Spencer shook his head.

"I…I don't know what to think," he said quietly. "I kn-know I wanted to save Caleb. I h-had to. But…was I a Good Boy for s-saving him? B-But Master said I wa-was a B-Bad Boy for it. I…I don't kn-know. I don't know!" His confusion was easy to see, especially in his tears.

"Shh…Listen to me," Gideon said calmly, putting a hand on Spencer's shoulder. "You are _not_ a…a Bad Boy. Do you understand? Saving Caleb was a very brave and good thing to do. You…You are a Good Boy. Harrington was wrong. You aren't bad, you're good. No matter what he's told you, you're good."

Spencer bowed his head, crying.

"I do-don't understand," he whispered. "I want to, bu-but I can't. I c-can't…"

"I know, I know, it's alright. Shh…" He hugged Spencer, trying to calm him. "It's okay. You're good, Spencer. You're good. Shh…" He hated this. He hated that Spencer felt this way and there was nothing he could do to help him. He wished he could make it all go away. He wished Spencer's photographic memory didn't exist. He wished that he could take every tiny memory and every ounce of pain away from him. But he couldn't. He was too late.

Spencer yawned, digging slightly at his eyes.

"You should get some sleep," Gideon said gently, standing and guiding him up.

"Okay," Spencer said softly. Gideon watched the young boy walk into the makeshift room. He pressed his hand to his temple. He wanted to catch this man five minutes ago. And he wanted him dead, just like the others.

"Gideon!" Morgan exclaimed, running around the corner. "Gideon, we need you in here, _now._"

He nodded and followed Morgan into the conference room. "What's going on?" He asked.

Garcia had her laptop set up next to one of the phones the station provided. The rest of the team was sitting around it, looking at it as if it were death itself.

"It's him," Hotch said. "It's Harrington. I want you to talk to him." Gideon nodded and sat at the empty chair in front of it. He looked sideways at Garcia, who was ready to start tracking the unsub's location.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

"Born ready, sir." Gideon pressed the speaker button, taking Harrington off of hold.

"This is Special Agent Jason Gideon of the FBI," he said as calmly as he could muster. "I'm told you wish to speak to me."

"I wanted to talk to all of sons a bitches," Harrington snapped. "You have what's mine. You took it."

"Yours?" Gideon said curiously. "I do believe you are mistaken. You can't own a human life."

"I _don't _own anything that's human, I own him." Morgan's knuckles cracked. Garcia was working hard at tracking the phone as fast as the computer would allow her.

"You'd better give him back now," Harrington threatened, "Or it'll get real ugly real fast. Just give him back to me and no one else gets hurt."

"You're not goin' anywhere near him!" Morgan snarled. Hotch cast him a warning glance.

"You want to bet money on that? I will get him because he is _MINE_! There's nothing you can do to keep him from me. He is _MINE_! I'm calling you to give you a chance to save this city from a panic. You still can, just give me The Boy."

"M-Master?" Everyone stopped breathing.

* * *

I didn't want to be alone. That's why I came in here; being in that dark room made me remember horrible things. I was scared, but walking in here and hearing that voice made it worse. That voice paralyzed me with so much fear I thought I was going to have a heart attack and throw up at the same time. Not this. Not this, please. Not Master.

"You there, Boy?" I couldn't move, neither could anyone else. "Answer me!" I jumped, instincts kicking in. I fell on my hands and knees, everything rushing back to me.

"Y-Yes, Master!" I whimpered.

And as suddenly as everyone stopped moving and speaking, they started again.

Garcia's fingers moved so fast you could barely see them. Morgan's anger increased tenfold.

"Hang up, now!" Prentiss yelled desperately.

"We can't, I'll lose him!" Garcia said.

"You've been a very Bad Boy. Very, very Bad Boy!"

"I'm s-so s-s-sorry, Master. Pl-pl-please, please…"

"Hang up, damn it!" Morgan bellowed.

"Not yet!"

"Do you have any idea what I'm gonna do to you when I get you, Boy?!" I could barely hear Master over all of the yelling from everyone else. "I'm gonna punish you worse than you've ever been punished!"

Morgan knelt down next to me.  
"Kid, get up, it's alright, get up," he said frantically. "C'mon, c'mon, get up." I shook my head hard, trembling violently.

"DON'T YOU DO A FUCKIN' THING THEY SAY!" Master screamed. I whimpered and looked at the floor. Morgan tried to coax me up again. I refused to move. I couldn't. Master would punish me.

"It's alright, Kid, get up," Morgan urged.

"No, no, no, I can't!"

"DON'T YOU SAY A WORD, _BOY_!"

"Hang UP DAMN IT!" Morgan bellowed. I jumped.

Can't talk, can't talk, must be silent, must be so very quiet, can't say a word.

"Spencer, get up, please. It's okay, Kid. Get up."

"I'm gonna find you, boy. And when I do, I'm gonna kill everyone around you, nice and slow, just like the Others. And you're gonna watch every second-"

"HOTCH, PLEASE!"

"And then I'm gonna kill you. I'll beat you 'til you can't move, cut you, stab you, hit you, break you, burn you-"

"GARCIA!" Hotch bellowed over everyone else.

"I'm going as fast as I can!" She was crying.

I couldn't move. I couldn't stop shaking. And I couldn't help the silent tears that crept down my cheeks. I'd never been so scared.

"And do you know how hard I'm gonna FUCK YOU?!"

I couldn't breathe. I started to sob.

"Get up, Spencer. Please get up, you don't have to listen to him, get up!"

No, no I can't move. I can't move, I can't talk.

"I'M COMIN' FOR YOU BOY!"

"HOTCH!"

Hotch yanked the cord out of the back of the phone, silencing Master's laughter.

The room got very quiet again.

* * *

Morgan stood, furious.

"What the hell?!"

"Morgan-"

"Let's not do this now," Gideon said.

"Garcia?" J.J. said.

"I didn't get anything," she cried softly, looking at all of them. "I couldn't get anything."

"It's alright, Penelope," Emily said gently.

"No it's not! He goes through all of that and…and…" She buried her face in her hands.

Morgan turned back around to face Reid and try to get him to stand up again. His heart cracked.

Spencer had backed into the corner, his face in his hands, knees drawn to his chest, trembling. They were back at square one.

--:'(--


	15. Here I Go Again

15

**Here I Go Again**

"No," Morgan breathed. The room was silent again. Spencer whimpered quietly, whispering incoherently. He knelt down in front of him, pain in his eyes.

"Spencer?" He said quietly. Spencer shook his head and, if possible, buried his face deeper into his knees. "Hey, hey, kid, it's okay. It's alright. He's gone, he can't hurt you anymore," he promised. Spencer shook his head again, harder. "Come on, talk to me kid. It's okay now. He won't hurt you." He whimpered, still not speaking. Morgan bowed his head, sighing.

"Spencer, it's alright, no one's going to hurt you. He can't hurt you anymore. He's gone," he reached toward him, laying his hand on top of his.

He screamed.

Morgan jerked his hand back as if he had burned him. Spencer started to cry softly. Other officers had stopped outside, looking in on the scene. J.J. rushed forward to shoo them away.

"Spencer, please, I'm not gonna hurt you. It's okay, you don't have to listen to him."

"Prentiss," Gideon whispered. "Go talk to him."

"What?" She blanched. "Sir, why me?"

"You talked to him when we first found him and he listened. Victims like him will trust-"

"Women before they'll trust men," she finished. "I understand that, sir, but…He's closer to Morgan and-"

"And he's scared to death of him right now, isn't he?" Gideon asked knowingly. "Please, Emily, just try."

Emily took a deep breath before even moving. She knelt down next to Morgan, touching his shoulder. "Can I try?" She whispered. He nodded and stood, looking helpless. She looked at Spencer, taking a deep breath.

"Spencer," she said gently, "Spencer, can you look at me?" He shook his head. "Why not?" He shook his head again, almost violently. "You can talk to me, Spencer. No one's going to hurt you for talking to me," another head shake. She looked around at the other people in the room. They were making him even more nervous. "Would you talk to me if it were just us?" No response. "Spencer?" After another minute's hesitation, he gave a very quick and very small nod. Hotch nodded to the others and they filed out of the room. Morgan gently took Garcia's arm and guided her out. The door closed behind them, and Prentiss and Spencer were alone.

She gingerly touched the back of his head, stroking his hair. He tensed away.

"Shh…It's alright. It's okay, Spencer. I won't hurt you. Shhh…" Slowly, painfully slow, he relaxed. "Can you look at me?" He peeked over his knees.

"He won't know about any of this, okay? No one's going to know that you disobeyed," she said softly. He looked up at her, shaking and crying.

"Okay, okay, you're doing good," she assured, smiling and nodding. "Can you tell me why you're so scared?" He shook his head, rapidly. "Is it because he told you not to talk?" He nodded again.

She nodded, looking around the room. "Okay, I can keep a secret, alright? I promise I won't tell _anyone_ that you talked to me. Okay?" He just looked at her. "Now, why are you so scared?"

"M-Master will fi-find me," he said so quietly and so shakily she could barely understand him. "An'…and he'll hurt y-you. Ev-everyone." He started sobbing into his knees. "He'll ki-ki-kill me. He'll fi-find m-me an-an-and…" He looked up at her, his eyes filled with tears and agonizing pain and fear. "I wo-won't let him hur-hurt you. Yo-you're my fr-friends. If I-I obey may-maybe he wo-won't…" He was crying again.

"Spencer, you know that your master won't know if you talked or not, right? Harr-, Master, will never know, alright? I promise. And no one will tell him, alright? I promise," she swore. "No one here will hurt you, I promise. We're safe, you're safe. You can trust us. You don't have to listen to him, Spencer." He shook his head, violently once again.

"Ye-yes I d-do. If I ob-obey he wo-won't hurt y-you. I ha-have to be-be a Good Bo-Boy."

"You are, Spencer," she said, swallowing the bile in her throat. "You're…You're a Good Boy. You're not bad. He's not going to know if you disobeyed or not. It's alright. I promise."

He cried into his knees.

"I don't want him to hu-hurt you!" He wailed.

"Shh…No one is going to hurt you ever again. We can lock this place down, we can make sure _no one_ gets in here that isn't supposed to. I promise you that you are safe and we will keep you that way. It's gonna be alright, Spencer," she said, nodding and stroking his hair again.

"I don't want t-to be scared anymore," he choked. "I just…I want…I w-want to go to sleep. And I don't w-want to wake up." He cried into his knees, shaking. Emily pulled him into a hug, holding him tight. She could feel the weight on his shoulders. She could literally feel the agony he had been through, how worn and scared he was just from this one hug.

"Are you tired, Spencer?" She asked softly. He nodded.

"I'm t-tired, I, I wanna sleep," he gulped so softly she barely knew he had spoke.

"Alright, come with me, okay? And if the people outside scare you, just pretend they aren't there."

"Okay," he sniffed.

* * *

I walked past all of them, jumping at every sound, every movement, waiting for a hand to strike me. Morgan looks at me. His expression made me feel so guilty. I was hurting him. I didn't want to. He was my friend. I didn't want to hurt any of them. But I was. I was hurting all of them. They'd be better if I weren't here. They'd be better if I was still in that basement.

I shuddered at the thought. Emily kept her hand on my shoulder. I was glad. It made me feel safe. I went into the dark room, stopping before I entered. She squeezed my shoulder, smiling gently at me.

She turned on the light. I stepped inside, happy that I could see now.

I hated the dark. The dark meant not being able to see the blows that were coming. The dark meant hands, everywhere. You couldn't see where they were going, or when they were going to touch you next…or where.

Master reminded me how bad I have been. Master made me remember. Must be a Good Boy. Must obey. Must be a Good Boy. Must obey. Must be a…

"Spencer," Emily said quietly, wiping tears from my cheeks. When did I start crying? "You can go to sleep. I'll stay with you, alright?" I nodded, lying down. I flinched when she touched me. She stroked my hair. I shut my eyes, trying to remember she was the one touching me and not Master. It was so hard…

I trembled under the blanket and waited for sleep to take me over.

* * *

He tossed and turned, face screwed up in fear, tears leaking from his eyes, sobbing and pleading. It was the worst nightmare Morgan had seen so far. He was sweating and screaming, shuddering and coughing.

"Spencer, Spencer, wake up, it's okay!" He exclaimed

"_PLEASE!_" He shrieked. "_NOT THAT! PLEASE, OH GOD PLEASE! NO, NO I'LL DO ANYTHING, PLEEAAAASSSEEE!_"

"Shh, it's alright, Spencer. Wake up! C'mon, kid, wake up!"

"_PLEEEAAAASEE! NOOOOOO! AHHHHHHH!_"

"SPENCER, WAKE UP!"

Spencer sat up, looking around wildly, his hair soaked in sweat. He looked down at himself, cried out, and started ripping his clothes off. He didn't even know Morgan was there.

"Whoa, whoa, Spencer stop," as soon as he touched him Spencer screamed and doubled his efforts to get his clothes off.

"I'll be good, I'll be good, I promise. I'll b-be good, please!" He sobbed.

"No, kid, stop, stop, hey!" Morgan wrapped his arms around his shoulders, holding him still.

"No, no, NO! Please! PLEASE!" He begged.

"Spencer, it's Morgan! It's Morgan!" He assured, still not letting the boy go. "Shh, it's alright. It's alright. Shh…" Spencer gasped rapidly, unable to breathe properly.

"No, no I…I have to obey. I have to ob-obey, let gohoh!" He sobbed.

"No you don't!" Morgan barked. "You don't have to listen to him." Spencer shook his head.

"You don't understand!" He bawled. "You don't know what he'll do to me!"

"Shh…stop, stop he won't hurt you. It's okay-"

"No one can protect me. No one can keep me from Master."

"I will," Morgan said firmly, still refusing to let him go. "I promise you, kid, I will _not_ let him touch you. I swear."

Spencer collapsed against his chest, sobbing, all of the fight drained out of him.

"Shh…it's alright. It's alright. He can't get you. Shh…"

Spencer cried himself to sleep, and he didn't stop crying once he was. He was reliving the most horrible moment he had when Master took him. It topped everything that had happened to him. The first time Master Took him.

--**Warning! **For next time guys. It's not gonna b pretty at all whatsoever. Just letting u know now.--


	16. Hurt

--**WARNING!!!!!: The following chapter is rated M for sexual abuse. I warn you now that the content is highly explicit and is a very mature situation. If you do not wish to read this chapter, send me a PM asking for the basics you may have missed. Thank you--**

16

**Hurt**

"What do you mean there's more?" Hotch said, looking at Garcia with skepticism. Garcia swallowed.

"Um, I went looking into some similar cases to see if Harrington may have had someone like Spencer before and…and I found these," she said quietly. She was still upset that Harrington had gotten away –he'd bounced his cell phone's signal off of different towers, making him impossible to track no matter how hard she tried- and she was trying to make up for it as best as she could.

She tossed a file onto the table, which Emily quickly opened and started spreading the papers around.

"There's six other boys that were killed the same way that Matt Larsky was scattered all around North Carolina. It stopped suddenly…two years ago," Garcia said. They all looked up from the table and at her, then at each other.

"So he kept Spencer," Gideon said. "Why?" Hotch shook his head.

"There has to be a reason. He had to have something the others didn't. There had to be something different about him," he said.

"Maybe it was because he was a person of authority," Emily suggested. J.J. shook her head, holding a paper in her hand.

"No, that's not it. Joseph Benning, 2003, he was a police officer," she said.

"I don't know," Gideon said. "But we need to find out."

"Guys," Morgan said, bursting into the room, tear stains on his shirt. "I know why Harrington chose him."

* * *

_2 years ago…_

_I opened my eyes, cursing softly when I found I was in the same place that I was when I passed out. I had hoped this all would have been a dream. I would wake up in my apartment and everything would be just fine. _

_But no. I was here, bruised and beaten from the man that took me. I would surely die soon. He would do what he usually did to his victims and then dispose of me. _

_I was scared. I was very, very scared. The collar around my neck made it hard to breathe, the shackles on my hands made it hard to move. I was afraid of what he would do next, and if I'd ever see my friends again. _

_Footsteps on the stairs, thundering. I swallow hard, shaking lightly beyond my control. He stood over me, grinning horribly before kneeling down in front of me. He stroked my cheek, pushing my hair out of my face. _

"_Please," my voice is small, feeble, scared, "Please, l-let me go. I won't tell anyone, I swear- Ohh!" He backhanded me, making me yelp in pain and surprise. _

"_You be quiet, boy. Be quiet and I won't make it hurt so much."_

"_Make what hurt?" I whimpered. He chuckled darkly. His hand lunged at me, grabbing the collar of my sweater and tearing. He threw it away behind him and grabbed my tie. _

"_Please, don- uhhn!" _

"_I said be quiet, boy!" Tie, gone. My shirt was being taken away, buttons flying. No, god, please, no! He's not going to…he can't! Oh, god, someone help me! _

_My belt was yanked from my waist so hard the loops broke. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt. I was shaking so badly the chains were rattling. I tried to get away, but it was a weak and pointless attempt. _

"_No, no, don't, please, stop it!" I begged. My pants, gone. I was so scared I couldn't breathe. "Y-You don't have to do this. You don't have to…please, don't do this, please!" His hand was on the waistband of my boxers. He grinned at me, his other hand holding my throat._

"_Give me a reason. Give me one damn good reason why I shouldn't fuck you 'til you can't move," he dared. I shut my eyes for a moment, swallowing any pride I had. _

"_I, I'm a virgin. Please, don't do this to me. I'm begging you," a tear slipped down my cheek. Something sparked in his eyes. Something I didn't like. He stroked my cheek again._

"_I'm gonna make you mine, boy." _

"_No, wait, please!" My boxers were torn away in an instant, leaving me naked, vulnerable and at this man's mercy. I found out later he had none_

_He pulled my arms above my head, connecting the chain between the shackles to a mechanism in the wall I hadn't seen before. He touched my chest, tracing unseen patterns with calloused fingers. I wriggled pointlessly, harsh sobs coming from my throat. _

"_No, no, don't, please…please!" He laughed at me. He grabbed my face, forcing his lips on mine. I whimpered and tried to pull away. He took a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back and exposing my throat. He bit my neck, hard enough to draw blood._

"_GAHUH!" I screamed. "Please…" He licked the side of my face, my ear. His hands touched every part of me he could reach. He licked my chest, my nipples, my stomach, my-_

"_OH GOD, PLEASE, NOT THAT, PLEASE!!" I shrieked desperately. I tried to get away; he punched me in the groin. "OHohh…" my voice died to a whimper. I gasped for air, praying that this wasn't really happening. "Please, don't…no, no…" _

_He grabbed my hips, forcing me to roll over on my stomach. My cheek rested against the stone, the rest of me still writhing weakly. I felt his lips on my back and the nape of my neck. _

"_Gonna fuck you _soo_ good, boy. Gonna make you all mine."_

"_No…no, God, please..!" I cried into the crook of my elbow, hiding my face. _

_Pain. Pain so blinding my vision went white. I screamed, loud and long, tears streaming down my face._

"_No, oh, god, PLEASE, STOP, PLEAAASSEE!" I sobbed in time with his thrusts. I felt him taking something from me, something important. My innocence. _

_His hands, his hands were everywhere, _everywhere_. I couldn't get away from them. I was totally helpless. _

"_MORGAN! MORGAN, HELP!" I pleaded to nothing. He laughed at me again. "Oh, please…no more…no more…" _

_I was bleeding, bleeding a lot. And his thrusts were becoming harder, quicker, making it worse. _

"_GIDEON! Ohoh…please…Gideon…make him stop…Morgan…someone…please…" He was still laughing at me. I couldn't stop shaking or crying. He moved harder, so much harder, kissing my face. I pulled away, sobbing so hard my chest was going to burst. "Hotch…please…OHHUH! Hotch…" No relief. No mercy. Just agony. He was tearing me apart. I tried to distance myself from it, tried to block it, but I couldn't. I just couldn't no matter how hard I tried._

"_Please…" I couldn't scream anymore. "No more, no more…Morgan…help me, Morgan…make him stop…make him stop…" _

_He rolled me back over, making me face him. _

"_No, no, DON'T!" I sobbed, shutting my eyes. He kissed me again, forcing my mouth open. His tongue slid around inside, leaving no corner a mystery. I tried so hard to get away from him. He was everywhere. And there was such pain, such awful, horrific pain. He was above me, his eyes locked in mine, grinning. He liked it when I screamed, liked it when I begged. I still couldn't believe this was happening to me. _

_He moved faster, faster, faster until he moaned, shuddering and releasing…inside me. He pulled out of me, making me sob even more, but in relief. He took my arms down, pushing my sweat soaked hair out of my face. I turned away, sobbing softly. _

"_You're mine now, boy," he said gruffly. "You can call me Master." _

_And he left me there. I huddled together, crying so hard my throat started to close. Bile rose to the back of my throat, gagging me. I wretched onto the floor, coughing hard, crying more._

_They would be here soon. They would be here soon to save me. They would save me. I knew they would. They wouldn't give up on me. They would never stop looking. _

"_Please, hurry…" I sniffed, my tears seeping into the floor. They would be here soon. And it was that shred of hope that kept me hanging on._

* * *

_2 hours ago…_

His voice was growing hoarse from his crying. Morgan held him close, rubbing the back of his head. He rocked him gently, shushing him.

"Shh…it's alright. It's okay, kid."

"Don't let h-him Take m-me again, Mor-Morgan," he begged. "Pl-please."

"Shh…I won't, I won't. He won't hurt you again," he promised. Spencer trembled against him, so scared he couldn't breathe.

"Wh-why didn't you come?" He whimpered, looking up at him.. "I pr-prayed and prayed…ev-everyday. Y-you never…you never…"

"I'm sorry, Spencer," Morgan whispered, shutting his eyes. . "I'm sorry we didn't get to you in time. I'm so sorry."

"I j-just want to for-forget. I wa-want it to go aw-away. I d-don't want to f-feel him an-anymore," he sobbed, broken. Morgan took a deep breath.

"I know what it's like," he said quietly. "I know what it feels like, Spencer. I know how those hands feel," Spencer looked up at him, his naked eyes confused. Morgan nodded. "I know what it feels like before, when you can hear him coming for you. I know what it's like during. I know how scared you are and…and how much you just want it to be over," He swallowed hard, blinking back tears. "And, and I know what it feels like after. The humiliation and, and how you're so sure that it was your fault. Like you did something wrong," he shook his head, smiling painfully, looking at him. "It's not. It's not your fault. There was absolutely nothing you could do to provoke that, okay? It's not your fault, kid. It's okay…"

Spencer collapsed against him, crying harder than ever, clinging to him so tightly his fingers hurt.

"Shh…it's okay, it's okay," Morgan soothed, the lump in his throat too much to bear. Tears fell from his eyes as he held his friend, resting his cheek on the top of his head. "It's alright, kid."

"I w-was a v-virgin, M-Morgan," he bawled helplessly. "And he…he took…he…" He couldn't keep going, his sobs were too strong.

Morgan felt as if he'd had the air sucked out of his lungs.

"You were a..? Oh, God…kid…" He breathed, holding him even tighter. Spencer gasped shakily for air between harsh cries. "It, it'll be alright. It'll be alright, Spencer. Shh…It's okay. Is that why he kept you?" Spencer nodded, hiding his face in Morgan's shirt.

He didn't fall asleep for awhile, still trembling once he had drifted off. Morgan carefully lied him down, covering him up and hoping that he would be alright.

"I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch. I promise." He stood, hurrying to tell the others what Spencer had told him. They understood Harrington a little more now, this would help. And now he was more passionate about ripping this man limb from limb.

* * *

_Now…_

"No," Emily said, shaking her head. "No, that's not…that can't be why…"

Gideon looked at the floor. Hotch turned away. J.J. collapsed in a chair after her legs turned to jelly. Garcia looked at Morgan in horror. Rossi kept shaking his head, pacing.

"That's what he told me," Morgan said quietly.

"It makes sense," Gideon said. "It makes perfect sense why he kept him." Morgan stared at him, shocked at what he was hearing.

"How the hell can you say somethin' like that?!" He bellowed. Gideon looked at him calmly.

"I hate this just as much as you do, Morgan," he said genuinely. "And…and though I hate to admit it, but telling Harrington that he was a virgin saved his life."

There was a long pause, nothing but dead air.

"What do we do now?" J.J. asked in a broken voice.

They heard screams not far off in the distance. Emily gasped like she'd been doused with icy water. Hotch bolted out the door, going to him.

"We catch this son of a bitch," Garcia said, fire in her eyes, before standing and following Hotch out of the office.

--Was I right to warn you, or what? Feedback plz--


	17. Hot Blooded

--**NO SLASH!!!!!** And to my reviewers, you guys are awesome, just fyi. And **KelliNew** u are freaking AMAZING. Thank you for being so darn awesome, girl ;D --

17

**Hot Blooded**

"No, no, no, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! Oh, god no, PLEASE, not that, no, no, please, anything, MASTER PLEASE! I'LL BE A GOOD BOY, PLEAASE! No, I'm not bad, Master, I'm not bad, PLEASE!"

"Spencer, Spencer, listen to me, it's alright, it's alright. Look at me, it's alright."

"No, Master, please, have mercy. HAVE MERCY, PLEASE!"

"Shh…shh…look at me, hey," Hotch tried to meet the boy's eyes, but he always seemed to be looking past him. "Look at me, Spencer."

"Sir," Garcia said in a small voice behind him. "I think he's still asleep."

Spencer's eyes were open and he was sobbing harshly, screaming at the top of his lungs, but he was still trapped within the confines of his mind, seeing horrors most people couldn't imagine.

His bloodshot eyes darted back and forth in miniscule movements. It took Hotch a moment to react to what Garcia had said.

"Spencer," he said gently, shaking his shoulder. "Spencer, listen to me, don't listen to him. Just wake up," He brushed Spencer's hair back. "Shh…wake up," Spencer continued to scream. "Shh…Wake up. Listen to my voice, Spencer. You can hear me, I know you can. It's Hotch. Just follow my voice and wake up. Shh…"

Spencer's eyes came into focus. He looked at Hotch, relief flooding his face before he shut his eyes, sobbing quietly. He looked so incredibly weary and tired, like he could sleep for a year and it still wouldn't be enough.

"It's alright, it's alright, shh…" Hotch soothed, still rubbing the back of his head.

"Hotch," Spencer croaked, looking at him with those wounded eyes. "Help."

"I'll help you, Spencer," Hotch said painfully. Garcia sniffed. "It'll be okay. Now listen to me," Hotch spoke softly, calmly, almost whispering. "I want you to go back to sleep, and I don't want you to think about anything but sleep. I don't want you to dream about anything, okay? Can you do that for me?" Spencer nodded slowly, his lips shaking. "Shh…"

His eyes drifted shut, but Hotch stayed where he was. He needed to make sure Spencer was okay, that he just might be able to sleep without that man hurting him.

"Sir," Garcia whispered, "is he going to be okay?" Hotch looked at the sleeping boy.

"I hope so."

* * *

Spencer's nightmares ceased for the remainder of the night, thankfully. But the circles under his eyes were still dark, his face was pale, his throat sore from screaming, eyes haunted.

He sat at the table, looking tired, staying silent. He listened to the conversations going around the table, attempts to take their minds off of what was happening for a little while. He was thankful for it.

J.J. sat down next to him, a mug of coffee in her hand. She frowned.

"Spence, why aren't you eating?" She asked.

"I'm not hungry," he said very softly. Her frown deepened to confusion.

"Are you sure?" She repeated. He nodded. "Alright, at least drink this." She set a cup of water in front of him. He nodded again.

"I will," he said softly.

Morgan leaned across the table.

"What's wrong with him?" He asked quietly enough that only J.J. could hear him. "Why isn't he eating?"

"He said he's not hungry," she whispered. Morgan frowned, looking at him. "He had a long night, Morgan. After all of that, I wouldn't be hungry either."

He nodded and sat back, lips pursed.

"Guys," Hotch said, standing. "Conference room, five minutes," The others nodded. "Morgan, stay with him." He nodded and stood with everyone else. Spencer stood slowly, and once he did, he swayed slightly.

"You okay, kid?" Morgan asked. Spencer nodded immediately.

"I'm fine," he said hoarsely. Morgan's brow creased.

He gestured for Spencer to follow him to the couch. Spencer swayed again, looking dizzy.

"Kid, are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine." Once again, he answered almost too quickly.

"Alright then, c'mon."

* * *

"We have to do something," Prentiss said. "We have to try harder to catch him."

"We've done everything we can," Rossi stated. "How he's slipping through us we don't know. Every cop in the state has their eyes open for him. His picture's running through every newscast. What else can we do?"

She shook her head, sitting down. "I don't know, but…there has to be something."

"There isn't-"

"Don't act like everyone in this room doesn't hear him at night!" She yelled. "Everyone knows how much he cries. How scared he is. You saw the things he did to him. And everyone knows how he used to be. I can't name the last time I saw him smile. He deserves to sleep in peace. He deserves to be himself again. And he can't do that unless we catch this son of a bitch!" There was a beat of silence.

"Prentiss, come with me," Hotch said, standing and leaving the office. She sighed before following him. He shut the door behind her and looked at her.

"Sir, I-" He held up his hand to stop her.

"We're not disagreeing with you," Hotch assured. "We just have to rely on the police and the locals to find this man. Someone out there will recognize him. They will call us. There's road blocks set up randomly on every road out of town and out of the surrounding area. We will find him, Prentiss, I promise."

"Sorry," she said, taking a breath. "I just..." She bowed her head, swallowing before looking back at him. "I saw his eyes, Hotch. I saw, I saw the Hell he had gone through. I _felt _the hell he had gone through and it's not fair.

"He was, is, so sweet, and innocent and he has managed not to lose his mind at the hands of this monster. He had the strength to fight and push just because he had _a_ hope that we would find him. And now he's still scared that he'll show up at any second. If anything, after all that he's gone through we should at _least_ be able to give him this."

"We will," Hotch said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I swear we will. And you're right. He deserves this more than anyone in the world."

"GUYS!"

* * *

Spencer was reading slower than normal. His eyes drooped and he held himself closer than usual, as if he were cold.

Morgan watched him closely, waiting for, well, something.

Spencer felt eyes on him and looked up.

"Sorry," Morgan said. "Are you _sure_ you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Morgan nodded.

"Alright," he stood. "You thirsty, kid?" He nodded, standing up with him.

He swayed a little, but stopped quickly.

Morgan walked toward the break room, until he noticed Spencer wasn't behind him. He turned.

Spencer was swaying again, looking paler than he already had.

"Morgan?" His eyes closed and he started to fall.

Morgan caught him before he hit the ground.

"Kid? Kid?! GUYS!" He bellowed. Spencer opened his eyes, looking groggy and confused. Morgan quickly felt his face.

"Aw, kid, you're burnin' up," he said, frowning. "Why didn't you tell me you didn't feel good?" The rest of the team appeared behind him.

Spencer looked up at Morgan, a tiny whimper escaping his throat.

"He hurt you for being sick, didn't he?"

Spencer nodded.

He felt absolutely miserable. His whole body hurt. He shivered at the cold air around him that _hurt_. His throat ached and felt as if it were on fire. And the hallucinations hadn't even started yet.

--More soon!--


	18. Shelter from the Storm

--Added per request to a good fan and my mother, who threatened to come over to my house and tie me to a chair in front of the computer until i finished it.--

18

**Shelter from the Storm**

"Dr. Robins said he'll be alright," J.J. said. "She said his body's not used to being treated so well, so it's adjusting itself."

Hotch shook his head, pressing his hand to his temples. "He doesn't need this right now. He's gone through all of this, and now he's sick? I don't know if he can take anymore."

"We're here for him," J.J. said. "And whatever he needs, we'll get it to him."

"Let's work on finding Harrington, then."

* * *

It was so cold, but so hot at the same time. I couldn't stop shivering, even though the three blankets on top of me were wrapped as tightly around my shoulders as they would go. Morgan was rubbing my forehead, telling me it was alright.

His voice sounded like an echo, like he wasn't really there.

"It's okay, kid, it's okay," he soothed. "We'll punish you soon."

"W-what?" I trembled, pulling away.

"I said you'll be better soon," Morgan repeated. "You're gonna be alright, okay?"

I nodded slowly. Emily came into the room, looking at Morgan.

"How's he doing?"

"Same as he was earlier."

Her voice, so distant. It's so cold…

She stood next to Morgan. She cocked her head to the side, looking at me.

"How long do you think it'll take?" She asked. Morgan shook his head.

"I don't know, depends on how angry he is," he shook his head again, meeting my eyes. "He did disobey nearly everything Master told him not to do."

"Wh-what?" My heart started to hammer in my chest.

Emily grinned. "He's gonna punish you so bad. And boy, is it gonna hurt." Morgan chuckled.

"Hell yeah it is, and we're gonna let him, too. Aren't we?"

Oh God, what was happening?

"We didn't want him back anyway," Emily said. "That's why we left him. That's why we gave up on him. We let Master have him."

"No," I whimpered, shrinking away from them. "Please, please don't let him-"

"Aw," Emily cooed, smiling horribly. "Listen to the baby whine," she brushed my hair back, I jerked away, whimpering and hiding my face in the blankets. "Poor little thing." Morgan laughed…at me.

"He's gonna punish you good, kid." Morgan was laughing, Emily was taunting. I was crying, shaking my head.

"No, no, no…please…please! Help…help, someone, please…don't hurt let h-him hurt m-me," I sobbed, shutting my eyes. They were supposed to be helping me. They were my friends. What was happening, why where they doing this? Oh, god, help!

"Gideon…" I wanted to scream, but I was too scared to. "Please…stop…"

* * *

"Spencer, hey, kid, look at me," He looked up at Emily, who looked equally confused.

He was hiding from them, shrinking further and further into himself.

"No, no, please…please…" he sobbed.

"Kid, I am not hurting you," He urged his face up, making him look at him. "What are you seein'? Huh?"

"Please, d-don't hurt me, Morgan. Pl-please, please, don't h-hurt me!" Morgan shook his head.  
"Listen to me, it's not real, okay? I won't hurt you. It's not real, I promise," he wiped the tears off of his cheeks, feeling his forehead. His fever was high.

"Spencer, listen, you hear me?" He looked at Morgan as if he was just seeing him for the first time.

"Morgan?"

"Shh…it's not real, kid. It's not real. You're hallucinating, okay? We would never, ever hurt you, alright?" He nodded, sobbing softly. "Shh, it's alright, it's alright. No one's gonna hurt you. You okay?"

Those chaste eyes looked back at him, his lips shaking.

"I d-don't feel good, M-Morgan," he shivered weakly. He nodded.

"I know, I know."

"Come here, Spencer," Emily said, sitting down on the cot next to him. She helped support his head and pressed the mug in her hand to his lips. The soup was warm and soothed his ravaged throat.

Spencer saw knives and cattle prods dance before his eyes, taunting him, threatening him.

_Not real, not real, not real…_

It was hard to believe. So hard…

He was scared to be sick, deathly scared. Horrible things happened when he was sick. He couldn't tell. He couldn't tell what happened when he was sick. He couldn't. Worse things would happen if he did.

He had to keep quiet. He had to. For his friend's sake.

* * *

"We've gone over this profile at least a dozen times and we still have nothing new," J.J. said, closing another file.

"There has to be something that we're missing," Rossi said. "There has to be _something_ to tell us where he's hiding."

Gideon's brow was furrowed, his hand rested on his chin, thinking intently.

"Something in the profile's wrong," Hotch said, frustrated as everyone else. "Something about it just doesn't seem right."

"The medical background," All eyes turned to Gideon. "The medical background doesn't make sense. His speech pattern, how he handled Spencer, the way he talked about him, becoming a doctor doesn't make any sense."

"Well, someone had to treat him. That broken arm didn't heal itself," J.J. said.

"We're looking at a partner," Rossi said. "Why didn't Spencer tell us about this?"

"We didn't ask him to," Garcia said quietly. They turned to her. "He can't talk on his own. He can't tell us anything he knows unless we ask. It's not his fault it…it's that sick puppy's horrible brainwashing abilities."

"What should we do?" J.J. asked.

"Talk to him," Gideon said calmly.

"Now?" Garcia frowned. "With all due respect, sir, but, the poor baby's sick, and I don't think it's nice to have to make him talk about this when he isn't feeling well."

"I'll talk to him," Gideon assured. "I understand how he feels right now, but we have to know. We have to catch this man before he tries to hurt Spencer again. And he knows that."

Hotch sighed, standing. "I'll let Morgan know what's going on."

* * *

Spencer fell asleep after he had eaten. Morgan felt his forehead again. The same heat, regardless of the Tylenol he took.

After he had snapped out of his hallucination Spencer had been very quiet, only nodding or shaking his head when Morgan or Emily asked him a question. Even in his current state, Morgan knew what that meant.

"Was he acting strangely or was it just me?" Emily whispered, gently stroking his hair. Morgan shook his head.

"No, I saw it too," he said, looking over at her. "I know this kid, whether he's been broken or not. He's hiding something from us." Hotch opened the door quietly.

"I need to speak with both of you."

--The plot thickens...--


	19. Cold as Ice

--Alright, typo in the last chapter. "Friends'" not "Friend's" my bad lol. And please, guys, i know how much u love this story from your reviews, but please, be patient. I promise you i try to get an updated chapter up as fast as i can and i have yet to leave a story unfinished, so don't worry. Thank you--

19

**Cold as Ice**

"_Act like you like it, boy!" I whimpered, squirming feebly underneath him, crying. A hand whipped across my cheek._

"_Do as I tell you, BOY!" He bellowed. "You sound like you like it. Do it, right now." _

_I did. I managed to stop fighting and converted my whimpers to other noises that seemed to be what he wanted. But I couldn't stop the tears. I silently begged for someone to help me. Not my friends. My friends had forgotten all about me. I didn't remember their faces, but I knew they were out there, somewhere, somewhere far, far away from here. Somewhere that didn't even seem real anymore. I asked for mercy from the only force I _knew_ still existed. I prayed._

God, please,_ I begged. _Please help me. Make him stop. Make him stop please, oh please, it hurts!

"_Yeah, you like it, dontcha? Dontcha?" I had to answer him. It would only get worse if I didn't. _

"_Yes," I croaked, trying to keep the sobs and vomit locked in my throat. _

"_Yeah, you like it. Like it 'cause you're a Good Boy, huh?" _

"_Yes!" I yelled it out of pain. "Yes, I'm a Good Boy, I'm a Good Boy."_

"_Tell me you like it," he grunted. "Tell me you like it, boy." A tiny sob escaped my throat. I couldn't help it._

"_I like it," I breathed, shutting my eyes, humiliated. "I like it…" _

* * *

"I don't like it," he whimpered. "I don't like it, I don't want it, please! Oh, God, please!" Before Morgan could try and wake the fevered young man he sat up with a start into his arms.

"Shh, sh, shhh…It's okay. It's alright. Shh…"

"I don't l-like it, Morg-gan. I d-don't like it. H-He made me…"

"Shh, it's okay, kid. It's alright. Shh…" Spencer slowly relaxed, taking deep breaths and trying to forget the horrible memory.

"You're okay. You're okay, kid," he leaned back, pulling away from him. He gave him a reassuring smile. "You're gonna be alright."

Spencer took shaky breaths, gasping for air, his chest tight.

"Calm down, kid. It's okay. Breathe slow, breathe slow," Morgan soothed. Spencer nodded, breathing as slowly as he could manage. "Okay, now I'm gonna let you calm down a little and wake up. Gideon wants to ask you a couple questions, alright?"  
D-did I do something wr-wrong?"

"No," Morgan assured immediately. "No, you didn't do anything wrong. He just wants to talk to you, okay?" Spencer nodded, but he couldn't help but feel like he'd been a Bad Boy.

* * *

Spencer hugged the sweater he had on closer to his body, leaning closer into the corner of the couch, trying to get warm. Garcia came up behind him, draping a blanket over his shoulders and tucking it around him. She smiled at him gently, touching his cheek. She smiled at him gently. He tried to smile back, but it was a very weak and small one.

She squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and walked away.

Gideon sat across from him in a chair, his gentle smile in place, but seriousness and worry in his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Bad," Spencer answered honestly and very quietly.

"You can go back to sleep soon bu-"

"I d-don't want to sleep," he trembled.

"Okay, okay, you don't have to," Gideon said calmly. "Now I'm going to ask you some questions and I want to know if you'll answer them honestly," Spencer nodded immediately. "Spencer, you _can_ say no."

He was taken aback. He'd never been given that option. He could say no. He could disobey. And no one would punish him for it. But he wanted to answer. He wanted to tell Gideon what he wanted to know because Gideon gave him that option. Gideon gave him a little of something he hadn't had in a long time. Freedom.

"I…I will," He said softly.

"Okay," Gideon leaned forward, hands folded between his knees. "Was your Master always alone?" Spencer shook his head. "He had a friend?" He nodded. "What was his friend's name?"

"I don't know," he said. "Master never said it."

"What were you supposed to call them?"

"I didn't call her anything," Spencer said, shaking from a wave of chills that ravaged his body.

"You didn't- Wait, her?" Gideon blanched. Spencer nodded.

"Yes. She…she was only there when I was sick," he said shakily. Gideon nodded, keeping his shock and disbelief from his face and his voice.

"Was she nice to you?" Spencer shook his head. "No, but she was b-better than Master."

* * *

"He has a partner," Emily repeated. "That doesn't make any sense. He was always alone when he tortured Spencer there is no way he'd want someone else anywhere near him. Spencer was his and his only."

"But he didn't want what was his dying. He had to have some help if he couldn't take care of him," Morgan said, feeling sick to his stomach that he was talking about his friend this way.

"Guys," J.J. came around the corner. "Gideon wants to see us. And I hate to say it, but I think this just got worse."

* * *

I was nervous with all of these people staring at me, waiting for me to speak.

"It's alright, Spencer," Gideon assured, putting a hand on his knee. "Just tell them what you told me."

I took a deep breath and started talking.

_It was so unbelievably cold. Everything felt like ice and it hurt so very badly. I was sick. It made sense. I hadn't had clothes on since the first day I was here. I'd been punished for being a Bad Boy every day for I don't know how long. I hadn't eaten in three days. I was being punished for speaking when I was told not to. I'd been bad. _

_Master's heavy footsteps came down the stairs, making me whimper. I coughed lightly, shrinking away into the wall behind me, chains rattling. _

_It took me a moment to realize that Master wasn't alone. There were other steps with his, softer, lighter. _

_I coughed again, hard and deep. My throat hurt. _

"_Well, he certainly sounds sick," an unfamiliar voice said. A woman's voice. _

"_I didn't call you for no reason," Master said. I looked up at him, trembling. A woman knelt in front of me, startling me. I jumped back. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me toward her, not hard, just enough to sting. _

"_Pretty little thing, isn't he?" She smiled, stroking my cheek. My breaths came in short gasps, eyes wide as I stared at this woman through a fog. She felt my forehead, her hand as icy and painful as the air around me. "Ooh, his fever's way to high," she looked up at Master, grinning. "Looks like we'll have to break it."_

"_And how do we do that?" He asked, staring at me. She looked at me, her smile making my heart pound. _

"_Oh, I think I have an idea." _

_Half an hour later I was being dragged to The Room by the shackles around my wrists. I whimpered and sobbed, not trying to get away, just wanting desperately to get warm. Master dropped me next to the tub. My heart pounded even harder. The woman shut off the faucet, still grinning horribly. _

"_Go ahead," she said to Master, but looking at me. _

_Master hauled me up by my hair, lifting me clean off the ground before tossing me into the tub. _

_My vision went white. My scream echoed through my ears and the rest of the house. _

_The water was the coldest thing I've ever felt in my life. It hurt so badly. I took shuddering breaths, shaking hard. _

"_Please, pl-please! D-don't! D-do-don't! Ohoh, go-od…" The water was icy and hurt all the way to my bones. That's when I realized there was ice in the tub with me. I sobbed heavily, wanting to get out of this frozen prison. _

_The woman grabbed my hair, feeling my forehead. She smiled._

"_Not quite yet." She shoved my head under. I gasped for air, coughing hard and sobbing. I huddled together as best as I could. _

"_Pl-please, n-no more, no mo-more!" I begged. My chest hurt, my heart pounded. Oh, god, someone help me. _

_Ten minutes later she felt my face again. _

"_Alright, get him out," she said, grinning at me. _

_Master yanked me out by the nape of my neck and let me fall onto the hard concrete. I shrunk into myself. God, why is it so cold?!_

"_Go get a towel," she said. Master nodded and left the room._

_She looked down at me, smiling still. She pushed my sopping hair back, stroking my face. _

"_Oh you are just too sweet, aren't you?" She lifted my head, forcefully pressing her lips on mine. I whimpered but didn't have the strength to pull away._

"_Here," Master said, tossing her a towel. She dried me off, taking her time. _

"_Alright, he can't stay here. It's too cold."_

"_Then where they hell am I supposed to put it?" _

"_You have an empty closet upstairs, put him in that until he's better," she said. "He's too sick to stay down here. Unless you want your little toy to die, I suggest you let him stay upstairs for a little while." _

_The closet was warm, but it was also small and dark. I was afraid of the dark. But in here Master couldn't sneak up on me in the night. At least here I knew it was coming. _

"_I can't pay you!" Master's voice was muffled by the door. _

"_Then you'll have to give me something else." The tone of her voice made me shiver, my fevered state making it difficult to fully process everything. _

"_What do you want?" I could almost see her smile grow._

"_Alone time with your toy."_

"Master wouldn't let her Take me," I whispered, shaking in fear. "He didn't want her to do that. B-but she did touch me."

"What else did she do?" Morgan asked, his voice strangled. They needed to know. They needed to know so they could catch her. I didn't want to tell them, not when they were looking at me like this. But I had to. I had to.

I took a deep breath and relived yet another horrible memory.

--Poor baby :'( More soon!--


	20. Devil in a Blue Dress

20

**Devil in a Blue Dress**

_Master dragged me through The Room by the chain from the collar, toward the bare wall. _

"_Master, please, please, I'll be good, I'll be good, please!" His fist struck my chest hard enough to send me to the ground. He hauled me up again by the collar around my neck, making me cough and try to get the air back in my chest. _

"_Don't you speak unless you're told, boy!" He barked, making me wince. _

"_Y-yes, Master." _

_He tossed me to the ground, at The Woman's feet. _

"_Here," he spat. "Take it. But remember what I told you not to do."_

"_I know, I know. I won't tarnish your little toy, I promise," she said, sounding bored. Master grabbed my hair, bringing his mouth next to my ear. _

"_You do everything she says, you hear? But if she tries to Take you, you scream for me, got it?" _

"_Yes, Master," I breathed. He let me go and walked away. I heard the door close. She and I were totally alone. _

_She knelt down in front of me, making me meet her eyes. _

"_Hey there, cutie," she smiled. "So you have to do everything I say?" _

"_Y-yes" I nodded. _

"_Yes _Ma'am_," she corrected, still smiling. "Kiss me." My lips were shaking, but I did. I didn't want to. She laughed in her throat. _

"_Such a Good Boy," she said gently. "Now hold still." A blindfold wrapped around my eyes, sending me into a world of darkness. "Stand up." I tried to stop trembling, but I couldn't. I was scared. She grabbed my arm, pushing me to where I didn't know. I found out when my hands were tied with rough rope above my head, spread out wide. I took a shaky deep breath. This was going to hurt. Whatever she was going to do was going to hurt very badly. _

_I found out I was right seconds later. Pain shot from my backside, making me cry out in pain and surprise. Oh God, no. God please no. Not that. Not that, please. _

_But it was. And she did it over and over again, making me scream. _

"_Aww," she cooed, stroking my tear soaked cheek. "Does it hurt? Huh, does it hurt?" _

"_Y-yes," I choked. She grabbed my chin, making me kiss her again. She ran her hand down my back, making me tense away. _

"_You don't like it, do you?" I shook my head. She struck me again. I yelped, sobbing harder. "Answer me." Her voice was so calm. _

"_I d-don't like it." She hit me again. Why?! I did what she said! Oh, god, no more!_

_The belt hit me some more. I sobbed so hard my chest and sides hurt. _

_Then suddenly, without warning, she untied me. My legs were weak and I couldn't stand. I fell to the ground, sobbing and left in darkness. I looked around, listening for where she might be, breathing rapidly. _

"_So innocent, aren't you?" She was right in front of me. I backed away, whimpering. "Ah, ah, ah, get back here." She tugged the chain attached to my neck. I jerked forward against my will, crying out again. _

_I fell to the ground and felt her hand on my face, brushing my hair back and caressing my face. I sobbed softly, unable to help myself. _

"_Shh…poor little thing," she kissed my cheek. "So broken, aren't you?" I continued to cry. The belt hit me again and I screamed. _

"_Stop…please…" _

"_Oh, I'm just getting started, sweetness."_

_She hit me. Again. And again. And again. And again. Oh, god, someone help!_

_Master had to give her more time with me when he broke my arm. He couldn't punish me as severely as he wanted when I was hurt like that. But I got better. And she had to receive payment again._

_This time I was strapped down to the metal table. She electrocuted me there. Everywhere. She doused me with a bucket of cold water and pressed a cattle prod to wherever it would hurt the most. _

"_No more, no more," I begged, trembling. "No, no not there, not there, PLEASE! GAHHHHHH!!" I arched off of the hard metal, shrieking in agony and sobbing. _

"_Stop, stop it, pleehease," I begged with everything I had. _

"_Shh," she touched my face, my scorched chest and neck, her fingers tangling in my hair as she kissed me again. I hated that taste. The taste of her lips. But she never called me a Bad Boy. And she'd give me water if I begged enough. She was better than Master. "Hush, little one." I was electrocuted once again. "Oh, I know, I know, it hurts, I know. Shh…" She walked around me, prod in hand. "Do you miss your mommy, little one?" She asked. I shut my eyes, sobbing. "Huh? You miss your mommy?" _

"_Yes," I gulped. _

"_Cry for her. Cry for Mommy." _

"_M-Mommy," I bawled, shutting my eyes. "Mommy, help me! Please…" _

_And then-_

J.J. dove across the room, wrapping her arms around me tight. She kissed the top of my head, crying. "No more, don't say anymore, Spence, please," she breathed. I cried into her chest, shaking horribly. She held me for awhile, kissing my temple, smoothing my hair and promising it was alright before letting me go. I breathed raggedly, refusing to look up at anyone. I was so ashamed. Gideon touched my shoulder.

"It's alright, Spencer," he assured.

"Di-did I help?" I choked. He nodded, tears in his own eyes. He hugged me close.

"Yes, yes you helped. You did good, you did so good, Spencer." My chest hurt so bad, the lump in my throat made it ache and throb.

"Shh…it's alright, it's alright," Gideon assured. "She can't hurt you anymore. Neither one of them can. They can't hurt you, shh…"

"I-I don't want to be h-here," I breathed. I didn't. I didn't want to feel their eyes on me, full of tears and pain that I had caused.

"Okay, okay, c'mon." Gideon guided me to the office I had been in earlier and helped me lay down. The pillow was cold and hurt my burning face. I cried into it, letting Gideon's soothing voice in my ears and his gentle hand rubbing the back of my head coax me to sleep.

* * *

Everyone sat in silence for a long time. No one moved, no one spoke, just quiet sobs from J.J. and Garcia. Hotch stared at his hands, continually shaking his head. Rossi looked at everyone else, feeling out of place in the room. Morgan stared off into space, angry and sad all at once.

"What do we do now?" Garcia asked.

"Um," Hotch cleared his throat and looked up at her. "We, uh, we need to cross reference Harrington with any woman in the medical field within a hundred mile radius around Edenton."

"Sir, that's a lot of names," she said quietly.

"I know, but it's a start." She nodded and bustled out of the room, wiping her eyes.

"We should start working on the profile," Emily said. J.J. and Rossi nodded.

"Good idea," Hotch said, getting his mind back on his work. He looked at the other side of the room. "Morgan?"

He snapped out of his daze and looked at him. "I, uh…I'll be right back." Hotch nodded in understanding.

Morgan stood, leaving the room and finding an empty one he could be alone in.

He shut the door to the lonely office behind him, leaning against the door and taking a deep breath. He shut his eyes, sliding down to the floor, and started to cry.

--Aww :'( More soon!--


	21. When the Levee Breaks

--Okay, guys, i am so SORRY for those reviews i didnt answer! And i am SOOO sorry it took so long to post this! It won't b happening again in either case, I swear! To help make up for it, this one's longer than most! :D Thanks to everyone who reviewed and i didn't answer, they are much appreciated.--

21

**When the Levee Breaks**

Having time for my mind to wander in the silence around me wasn't a good thing. But that was the case right now. I was lying in the dark, listening to J.J.'s steady breathing as she dozed behind me. I didn't want to succumb to the memories gnawing at me, but I had to. I was so tired…I wasn't strong enough to make them go away.

_I'd held on, fought, refused to call him Master. That's what he wanted. He wanted me to be obedient to him. To bow to his will and his whim. I wouldn't do it. Not when I still had fight in me. Not when I still had hope I would be saved. No, I wasn't that weak. Not yet._

_But God, was I close. I was so scared, all the time. My whole body hurt so badly. I felt so disgusting, so dirty. It was a punishment for speaking when I wasn't supposed to, and saying no at the same time. I was covered in blood, sweat, tears and other secretions that weren't my own and made me sick to think about. _

"_You'll get clean when you learn to be a Good Boy," he had said after raping me for the hundredth time. God how I wished that number was exaggerated. _

_The door at the top of the stairs opened, the light spilling down source as to what time of day it was. Judging by the dim white glow it was dawn. _

_My heart pounded harder when I heard those heavy footsteps thundering down the stairs. Waiting for him was the worst part. Oh god…_

_I trembled, telling myself to stay strong, to fight. Morgan would want me to fight. He wouldn't want me to give in or give up. They were coming for me. They were coming for me…_

_He stood above me, a wicked smile in place that scared me worse than the handcuffs and roll of duct tape in his hands. _

"_I'm gonna break you, boy," he grinned. I swallowed some fear and tried to find some bravery._

"_No…you won't," I said, finding it. I knew the backhand to my face was coming, which stifled my cry a little._

"_You say that now," he undid the collar around my neck and started on the shackles. "But trust me, you will. You will by midnight tonight. Guarantee it." The shackles came off. I did the first desperate thing I could think of. I threw my fist out, surprised when I heard a satisfying crack as it struck his jaw. But before I could try and get anywhere he grabbed my hair, face red, eyes bulging, furious. I shook harder._

"_YOU'RE GONNA REGRET THAT, BOY!" He bellowed, hitting me hard enough to knock me to the ground, my head bouncing off the concrete._

_White pops of light danced in front of my eyes as metal wrings closed tightly around my wrists. I heard the duct tape rip, but I couldn't do anything about it. Several layers were wrapped around my eyes while I begged uselessly, trying to get away. _

"_Don't, don't, please!" My hair was grabbed again and I was hauled away. _

_I was lost in darkness. My fingers dug at the tape without success. The layers had been wrapped around my head; there was no getting them off without something to cut them with. I wriggled and squirmed repeatedly without any sort of gain. _

"_You knock that shit off," he snarled, tightening his vice in my hair and kicking my ribs before continuing to drag me up the stairs. _

_We went through the house and outside where I was tossed into the bed of his truck. We drove, and drove, and drove, Mellencamp's "Hurt So Good" playing in the background, making me shudder. What was he going to do to me? Where were we going? Oh god, what was he going to do to me?!_

_We finally stopped, that horrible song stopped playing and he got out. I was tossed unceremoniously to the ground, the air quickly disappearing from my lungs and leaving them aching and hitching. I coughed and gasped, trying to breathe. Oh, please, not my hair again…_

_Once again, I was being taken to a place I didn't know. Judging by the rocks and sticks and branches my body was continually scraped by we were in the woods. Deep in the woods. I tried to fight, but my efforts got me nowhere, screaming and begging included. _

"_Let me go, LET GO! Plehease…please…" All it got me were more kicks and slaps. After eons of this he stopped walking. I couldn't tell how far we'd gone. Tears of frustration had managed to make their way into my eyes and fall slowly._

"_Alright boy," he hissed, his mouth next to my ear. "You find a road by midnight and I'll let you go. If you don't, you're mine…forever. Got it?" He let me go and walked away. I didn't dare move until I heard the truck start somewhere far away and fade to nothing. _

_Find a road…find a road…find a road. Find a road…blind without full use of my hands and arms, naked and weak. This was far from a fair game, but I had to try. I had to. It was hope, it was a shot. So I was going to take it. I pushed myself into a standing position, legs trembling from lack of use. I dug at the tape again, scraping my skin painfully, but it was no use. _

"_Damn it!" I spat despairingly. I leaned against a tree I had to feel for to find, trying to think of a way to do this that didn't end up with me walking in circles. There was only one way I could think of, just walk straight. It was then I realized I didn't remember the way he had drug me here. No… Oh no… _

_I did walk, after awhile. I couldn't just stand there. I wasn't going to give up. But the walking turned to jogging. And jogging turned to running. I had to get out. I had to. I wasn't going back there. Not back to that icy basement. Back to those horrible hands, that room…the room with any and every form of torture you could imagine. I just couldn't. _

_So I ran. I stumbled and fell, scraped my knees and hands. I was in a black prison, forced to listen and feel for anything that would tell me if I were anywhere close to someway out or not. Branches whipped at my face, rocks bruising and cutting my feet, my legs, my arms, God, everything. _

_I had to stop periodically just to breathe. The air was humid, and boiling. It was so hard to breathe, so hard to keep running. I was drenched in sweat that stung open wounds; my chest was on fire and ached horribly. My heart pounded, hard. It was hopeless, what I was doing was hopeless. How was I supposed to find anything when I couldn't even see?! I could barely walk. The cuffs dug into already raw skin, making them bleed and sting with sweat. What the hell was I supposed to do?!_

_I yanked at the tape, frustrated to the point of tears. I screamed in anger, making my forehead bleed as my nails dug into my face. No more. I couldn't do this anymore. I couldn't be blind anymore. Not after I'd been running for hours on end, desperate. _

_It finally moved. I could see. I could see. But the sun blinded me, hurting my eyes and making me fall to the ground, covering my face and crying out. I peeled them open slowly. I hadn't seen sunlight in months. I forgot how beautiful it was. But it was too painful to be pretty right now. _

_I staggered to my feet, looking around. My heart sank. It was already getting dark, and I was deeper in the woods than I had anticipated. No hope in sight. None… _

"C'mon, kid,"_ his voice was an echo in my head. _"C'mon, you gotta keep goin'. You can't stop now…"

_I ran on. I ran with the hope that I would see them all again. My friends. My family. My hope. I ran hard, tripping and falling and hurting myself, but I got up every time._

_After awhile my legs went numb and so did my hands. The night air turned cold. My sweat turned to shivers. I hugged myself with constricted hands, trying not to cry. But I kept going, past exhaustion, so thirsty I would've done anything for just a drop of water. I coughed and wheezed for air, inhaling raggedly, begging silently for relief. _

_Then it started to rain. Thunder sounded violently above me, lightning stabbing the sky. The air got colder, the rain and the wind making me shiver harder and cry out of sheer exasperation. I couldn't take anymore. But I had to endure. _

_I ran on for what seemed for like forever until I wasn't even paying attention. Rain stung my face, drenching me to the bone, roots wrapped around my ankles, mud made me slip and fall. I was fighting nature, and frankly, it was kicking my ass. _

_Finally, I saw a break in the tree line. I saw headlights heading down what I assumed was a road. A road!_

_My heart leapt and I smiled for the first time in a long time. I ran faster, so close. I didn't stop to think what this person would think when they saw a beaten, cuffed, naked man running out of the woods, but it would certainly get their attention._

_I collapsed onto the gravel, my knees finally giving way after all this time. I breathed heavily into the muddy ground, so exhausted I could have passed out then and there. But I didn't. I laughed. I'd won. I'd won! I'd beat him. _

_The headlights got brighter and the vehicle stopped behind me. I vaguely heard a car door open and close and someone get out. But I wasn't really paying attention. I was going to see my friends again. I was going home. I laughed again, despite the pain wracking every inch of my body._

"_Don't get too happy, boy." My stomach turned to ice, my heart thundering louder than the clamors above me. No…NO! _

_He knelt down next to me, grinning horribly. He turned his wrist, showing me his watch. "It's twelve oh one."_

_The oxygen was sucked from my lungs. My heart stopped and any hope I had left was shattered. _

"_No," I moaned, sobbing. "No, please! Please…please, let me go! Let me go, I…I just want to g-go home…I just want to go home, please!" He laughed, he laughed in my face. He grabbed my sopping hair and dragged me to the truck. I sobbed and writhed so weakly it was almost funny. He threw me into the bed and drove. _

_I was back in the basement, being taken to The Room. _

"_You ready to be a Good Boy?" He growled, chaining my arms above my head. I hadn't stopped crying, and I couldn't now. I sobbed harder and shook my head when he brandished a whip. _

"_No, no, please! PLEASE! Nohoh…" _

"_You're not going to be good?" He smiled. _

"_Wait! Please, please, NOOOOO!" _

_It tore into my skin, burning, breaking my will. _

"_OKAY!! OKAY, I'LL BE GOOD! I PROMISE I'LL BE GOOD!!" _

"_WHO AM I?" He screamed, striking me in time with the thunder outside. I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't do it. I'd been pushed far enough. No more…no more…_

I'm sorry, Morgan.

"_Master!" _

"_WHAT?!" Another stroke._

"_MASTER!" _

"_I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!" Another._

"_MAAASTTTTEEERRRRRRR!" _

I opened my eyes, jolting from a short-lived doze.

"Shh, it's alright, kid."

"Morgan?" I trembled.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here. It's alright," He swore.

"M-Morgan, wh-where were you?"

--Ooh, the question we all saw coming... More soon!--


	22. Mad World

22

**Mad World**

"M-Morgan, wh-where were you?"

Morgan felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. He looked down in the boy's eyes, those tear-filled, trembling eyes, his heart aching.

"D-did you give up on m-me? Did y-you for ab-about me?" He asked shakily.

"No," Morgan assured, shaking his head. "No, of course we didn't."

"Then w-where were you?" He asked, crying against his will. "I p-prayed so hard for _s-someone_ to help m-me."

"We had nothin' to go on, kid. We didn't know where-"

"We've found pe-people on less." Morgan couldn't deny that.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, kid," he said quietly.

"You st-stopped looking for me. D-didn't you?" Morgan couldn't meet his eyes. "P-please, talk to m-me, pl-please."

"Yeah, kid, we did. We didn't want to, but we had no choice. We hadn't seen…we'd reached so many dead ends that…" He hated what he was telling him, but he had to say it.

"I-it's okay," Spencer whispered. "I g-gave up on you t-too." He sobbed into his hands, shaking hard. Morgan's heart cracked. "I f-forgot about y-you. Y-Your faces and your names. You w-were my hope… and you n-never c-came."

"Kid," Morgan hugged him, letting him cry into his chest. "I'm so sorry we didn't find you in time. We never gave up hope. Garcia had alerts set up with missing person departments in every town she could in case _something _showed up. Every case we had we prayed we'd find you by chance. Hell, everywhere we went we did. Except this one. This one we hoped it was the last place you'd be, and… We begged that we wouldn't find you anywhere near here. But we did."

"I was g-going to g-give up on myself, M-Morgan. I was going t-to let him kill me. I was g-going to d-die. The next t-time he hurt me I w-was…" His sobs were too strong for him to speak anymore.

"But we found you. We found you, kid. We found you before that could happen."

"I know, I know," he gulped. "I just…I needed you s-so many times. I s-screamed for you. Di-did you hear m-me?" Another crushing blow went to Morgan's heart and his stomach. He looked down into those eyes again. God he was so vulnerable, so exposed to the world. And there was nothing he could do to help it. His eyes had hope in them, hope that Morgan couldn't take away again.

"Yeah, kid," he assured, hugging him close, "We heard you." Whether Spencer knew it was a lie or not he didn't know. But he cried himself to sleep once again and this time, Morgan didn't let him go. He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and held him all night.

"I got you, kid. I got you. It's okay, it's okay," he whispered.

Spencer whimpered quietly and Morgan squeezed him tighter. "Shh…you're safe. He can't hurt you, he can't hurt you. Shh…"

Garcia watched from the doorway, tears in her eyes that were wiped away. She turned and left, knowing that Morgan would take better care of him than she could.

* * *

_Two years ago…_

_I got out of my car. It was a simple thing. I did it every night. Parked in the parking garage and went to my apartment. That's the way the routine went. _

_But something was different about tonight. I could feel it in the air around me. A bad feeling welled in my stomach. I brushed it off, thinking it was mere aftermath of the case we'd been working on. A serial killer that targeted little girls in denial of his Pedophilia. What a way to spend my birthday._

_I sighed and shut the car door just as my phone buzzed in my pocket. I dug inside trying to retrieve it._

_That's when an arm, so strong it seemed to be made out of steel wrapped around my neck, a cloth covering my mouth and stifling my yelp of shock. _

_I knew by the smell on the rag that it was chloroform. I stopped breathing it in, but it was too late. I'd inhaled enough to make me dizzy, drowsy, disoriented and weak. The struggle I had put up died to a feeble squirm. Cuffs closed tightly around my wrists, the iron grip on my throat and hand on my mouth still present. Adrenaline allowed me to keep holding my breath, but even that would only get you so far. _

_He dropped me to the ground. My heart was pounding fear strong enough to choke me even when the rag was gone. I couldn't speak, a side effect of the drug. All I could do was watch the man above me grin at me and bend down. He took the phone out of my pocket and turned it off, tossing it into the front seat of my car. _

_What could I do? Oh, god, what could I do? Help me! Someone help me! I tried with everything I had to fight, making the man chuckle as he glanced down at me. He bent down again, taking the badge from my belt. _

"_FBI, huh?" He mumbled. "Dr. Spencer Reid." He shook his head, still chuckling. "That won't matter soon." _

_I couldn't breathe. I was going to die. I knew right then and there that this man was going to kill me. _

_He set the badge in the car with gloved hands. He took everything. My gun, my keys, my wallet, anything that identified who I was. I suppose he didn't realize that every member of law enforcement is put in the system in case…in case of something like this. _

_I was in shock. That was the only explanation for my way of thinking. I flinched away –a miniscule movement- when he got close to me again. He lifted the back of my head, studying my face. He removed the glove on his free hand with his teeth and touched my face, caressed it really. Morgan, help me!_

_He stroked my hair back, looking deep in my eyes with his own, a smile that scared me deeper than anything else. That smile made it all real. _

"_Oh, we are gonna have fun, boy." _

_I subconsciously made an assessment of what kind of man this was. Making the quickest profile I'd probably ever done in my life. My mind captured his entire face. What he looked like mattered. It would matter if I got away and someone could find him._

_But a small voice told me that none of it would matter. I would be dead before he was caught. He would kill me. And if that was all he did to me I should be grateful._

_Nevertheless, I let my instincts kick in._

_He was an older man. Late forties, early fifties, somewhere in that range. He was white but his face was tanned and coarse, as if he worked outside. A farmer maybe. His coarse and calloused hand confirmed that, as well as the strength and build he possessed even in his age. _

_Age lines had formed around his eyes and his mouth. His face was coarse with salt and pepper stubble, the same color as his hair. His eyes were chips of gray ice that chilled me right to the core. In all my life I'd never seen the essence of evil. But I was sure it resided in this man's eyes. _

_When he stood I received a better estimate of his height. My guess was about 6'6. He was so much bigger than I was. He could hurt me easily. It was no wonder he had caught me this way. _

_He was certainly unkempt. His tattered jeans and boots looked as if they were the only items of clothing he had ever owned. The same went for the faded t-shirt and flannel over-shirt. _

_He seemed the type to be highly unorganized, and yet he'd been intelligent enough to find me here, alone like this, overpower me and not leave a trace of himself or a sign of foul play. _

_I had understood all of this in a matter of seconds. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and hauled me up, throwing me over his shoulder fireman style, a humiliating pose. _

_The realization of the situation finally hit me, the shock fading and my mind unable to protect me from it anymore. It captured everything my eyes touched against my will while the understanding that I might never see my friends or my mother again hit me like a punch to the stomach._

_I tried to speak, tried to fight through the chloroform. _

_My body had other ideas. The panic that clogged my throat and the painful hammering of my heart made the edges of my vision go dark. The blackness closed in around me, my weak and pointless struggling fading to nothing. No, no! Have to stay awake. God knows what will happen if I don't. Please, don't pass out, don't pass out._

_But the added stress only helped the process along. My body decided I couldn't take the trauma, couldn't fully fathom what was happening and sent me into oblivion. _

_I woke up in a basement._


	23. Man in the Mirror

23

**Man in the Mirror**

Spencer sat on the couch, his hands clasped together, looking at the floor. He looked exhausted and, for the first time since they'd found him, irritated.

"Is he alright?" Rossi asked, looking at the young man from across the room. Emily sighed, staring in the same direction.

"He's angry, Emily said quietly. "He's tired of it. He's tired of being scared, of crying, of not sleeping. He just…he wants this to be over just as much as we do."

Rossi nodded and continued to watch him as she walked away. She sat down in the chair opposite the agonized boy and waited. She smiled gently when he looked up at her.

He tried to smile back, but it was forced.

"Are you okay?" She asked. He didn't answer, just looked back at his hands, giving her the answer she anticipated.

"You guys aren't any closer, are you?" He whispered. Emily shut her eyes for a moment before reaching out to him, placing her hand on top of his.

"We're trying, Spencer." He nodded in understanding.

"I'm tired, Emily. I'm so tired. But I can't sleep. I want this to be over. I want my life back." A tear rolled down his cheek; it was wiped away roughly in disgust. "Damn it, I want to stop crying!" But he didn't. The frustration made hated tears fall and shame made him hide his face.

"Hey, hey," Emily put her hand on the back of his head, stroking his hair, "it'll be alright. It'll be-"

"Right, it _will_ be okay. That's what all of you keep telling me. It _will _be okay," he choked. "When will will be?" When is will going to be here?" Voice so small, so broken, so hopeless, so helpless. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know the steps to take to fix himself. All he knew was that he was tired of this mess.

Emily sat with him, soothing him softly and wondering if it made an ounce of difference.

J.J. saw the spectacle and sat down next to him, offering Emily some assistance. She put her hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her and dove into her arms, crying into her neck. J.J. was always warm, sweet. She always knew how to make him feel better.

"Shh, it's okay, sweetie. Shh…" She assured gently, rocking him. She looked at Emily to try and understand what had happened, but the sad look in her friend's eyes told her what was happening. "Hey, Spence," she lifted his chin, her heart wrenching when she looked into those innocent and broken eyes, "you feelin' any better?" She smiled lightly at him. He nodded weakly. Her smile widened. "Good, good." She searched her mind for anything to talk about to take his mind away from this. Luckily, Emily came to the rescue.

"Do you need anything?" She asked. "Anything at all?" He swallowed, looking at both of them.

"C-can I take a sh-shower?" He trembled. J.J. winced and hugged him out of reflex.

"Of course you can." She kissed the top of his head. "You don't have to ask, honey.

The two women looked at each other, saying everything without saying a word. They were both past just wanting Harrington dead. They wanted to torture and kill him themselves.

* * *

I didn't need anyone's help with the shower this time. The motions and routine came back to me almost instantly, once of the only things that had.

I walked through the bathroom, a towel and a change of clothes under my arm.

I was hesitant to be alone. Fear of being by myself and that I'd be a Bad Boy on accident and get punished for it made me shake, just a little.

_No one's going to punish you here, haven't you figured that out yet, genius?_ A voice in my head said pointedly. I shook my head, agreeing with it, and kept walking.

I saw the mirror then, the movement in the glass making me look. And for the first time in two years, I saw myself. Or what was left of me.

My hair was a lot longer than I remember. Another inch and it'd be on my shoulders. I was pale, very, very pale. No wonder they all looked at me like that. I looked like someone that had been held captive, maybe a prisoner of war. My face wasn't gaunt enough to suggest starvation, but enough to suggest torture and an extreme amount of stress. When you saw past the circles under my eyes that were dark enough to be frightening you could see the bloodshot things I once called my eyes. They were haunted, clouded, sad, scared, paranoid and full of agony. They echoed how I felt inside.

This was not my face. These were not my eyes. This was Master's creation. This is what he had molded me into. This wasn't me… This wasn't what I used to be.

I looked away.

_Just take a shower,_ I told myself.

I wished the warm water could wash away everything, not just dirt. I wished it could take away the pain and the memories and the deep seated fear that dwelled like a dark cave within me. And I felt as hollow as one too.

I leaned my head against the porcelain of the wall, shutting my eyes and trying not to think about much of anything.

I wish it worked.

Flashbacks of water, just like this, only freezing, drenching my whole body. If I complained of the cold it turned boiling, searing my exposed flesh in an instant. I remember being semiconscious while he washed my hair and body, grinning when I writhed and begged and cried. I cried so many times…

I slammed my fist into the wall my head was against.

"Go away," I breathed. "Go away!"

I shut off the water soon after that. I dried off and got dressed before leaving the bathroom, voices and laughter in my head.

"Kid, you okay?" I didn't even know that Morgan had been standing there. It made me jump, then angered me further.

"I…is…is there somewhere I can go to be alone? I just… I need a minute." My voice broke, eyes pleading with him.

"Yeah…" he said, nodding. "Yeah, kid, over here."

He led me to a darkened office, not the one I had been staying in, but more of a storage space. He turned on the light and held the door open for me to come in.

"Thanks," I whispered. He nodded and shut the door.

I stood there for a minute. The voices got louder. His harsh bellowing, horrible laughter, sounds of pleasure ringing in my ears with my own pleading, screaming, whimpering, pathetic crying and useless fighting, all of it, so loud.

"AaaaaaAAAAAHHHHHH!" I screamed, throwing my arm out, knocking a stack of papers to the ground.

"_YOU SON OF A BITCH!_" I bellowed, breaking anything and everything around me. "_YOU TOOK MY LIFE AWAY FROM ME!"_ I screamed in my rage, punching the walls, punching the filing cabinets, everything.

Tears of anger fell down my red face as I continued to pour every bottled emotion into my fists. Punch, punch, punch, CRASH.

"_I WANT MY LIFE BACK YOU SON OF A BIIIIITCH!_" I hit the wall over and over and over again. And when someone touched my shoulder, I spun around and hit them too, not fully aware of what I was doing.

* * *

Gideon staggered back, holding his jaw where Spencer had struck him. He gained his bearings quickly and rushed to him.

"Spencer, Spencer!" He yelled, wrapping his arms around his chest and holding him fast to his own. "Spencer, stop!" He fought hard, writhing and squirming, doing anything he could to get away from him.

"NO! NOHOH, LET GO! LET GO, LEAVE ME ALOOONNNEEE!" He sobbed hard enough to make him cough.

"Spencer, it's Gideon! It's Gideon, shh…" The fight was leaving him, anger cooling and dying to nothing, leaving nothing but sobs. His sweat drenched face rested against Gideon's chest, his bloodied hands shaking as he cried.

"I w-wanna go home, Gideon," he sobbed. "An'-an' I miss my mohom." Gideon let him cry and held him close.

"It's okay, it's okay. Hush, hush…"

* * *

Garcia had narrowed the long list of names over and over and over again. Right now her vast search engine was limiting yet another revision.

That's when it popped up. One name. Just one name.

"I found her," she whispered, staring at her screen in shock. "I found her!"


	24. You Found Me

24

**You Found Me**

I loved it when he cried. I relished it when he squealed and writhed, unwillingly bucking off the table when he was touched by some form of torture device. Or my hands.

His skin was so soft, so was his hair. So were his lips. And when he said Master… At the very least, it gave me chills. Fucking his little body gave me more pleasure than anything. Well, maybe. Knowing that he was completely and totally _mine_ was up there.

And they had taken what was mine. He was mine and they took him away. I would get him back, I swore then and there I'd get him back. But now I had to wait for the right idea and the right moment to take him. I was hiding at Marybelle's, waiting, waiting, waiting.

"Are you hungry?" She asked, her back to me. I shook my head.

"No." She smirked at me.

"You're hungry for the boy though, aren't you?" She asked.

"I just want my property back," I growled.

I could still hear his screams and pleas. I could still taste his tears and his skin. When I got him back I would punish him for such disobedience. He went with them. He went with them and left me, disobeyed everything I told him to. Marybelle said he was wearing clothes. That thought alone made my blood boil.

But I would get him back. And he would obey me just as he had before. I had so much fear instilled in him that he would do whatever I said. And after I punished him I would Take him. I'd make it last for what would seem like forever to him, not taking any measures to lessen the pain at all. I would make him mine again. He would cry and beg and squirm, just the way I liked it.

"You saw him with them?" I asked.

"Yes, for the hundredth time, yes. He was with them, but don't worry. He won't tell them he saw me."

"Good." He would be mine. I would take him back and make sure that he would never be taken away again. And if I had to kill every single one of those bastards to keep him then I would.

* * *

I had my back to Arthur, making a sandwich. I wanted him to get the boy back too. So that way he'd be pacified and stop killing the boys that lived in town and drawing attention to us. And if he got the boy back I could play with him too.

That innocence always got me goin'. Always. Those big round eyes just a beggin' and a pleadin' for it all to stop. I smiled at the thought, just as I had when he was shaking and crying in front of me.

Arthur had called me when he saw the cops around his house. He needed to know if they had found the boy. And almost as if the Fates were betting on it, I turned and saw him being wheeled in on a gurney.

His eyes met mine, wide and innocent, and he went pale. I smiled at him and held a finger to my lips, the universal sign of "Shh!" His lips started to shake, his eyes not leaving me until he disappeared around the corner.

Yeah, those FBI agents were _real_ observant.

"What if he doesn't listen to me anymore?" Arthur mumbled. I rolled my eyes.

"He will. I saw him. Don't worry, your toy will still work properly, I can guarantee it," I assured.

Suddenly there were sirens outside, loud, blaring, and getting closer. I spun around, looking at Arthur, who was standing.

"SHIT!" He bellowed. I thought for a moment, a smile slowly spreading over my face. "WHAT THE HELL ARE WE GONNA DO?"

"Relax," I grinned. "I have an idea."

* * *

"I found her!" Garcia squealed, rushing into the room, holding a piece of paper high in the air.

"What are you talking about, Baby Girl?" Morgan asked. Garcia grinned.

"That, that woman that was working with the bastard that hurt our baby, I found her!" She looked down at the paper. "Marybelle Johnson, 405 Cherry Street. I found her!"

"…And if we know where she is-" Morgan began.

"We find Harrington," Hotch said, standing immediately. "Morgan, tell Gideon what's happening. Everyone else, let's go!"

* * *

"Shh…hush, hush. It's okay. It's okay, Spencer, shh," Gideon soothed. "It's okay now. It's okay."

"I'm so t-tired, Gideon," he choked.

"I know, I know, shh…It's alright." Spencer took deep, shaky breaths, slowly calming himself down.

"I want it to go away. I want everything to be the way it was before. I don't…I don't want to be a victim anymore."

"It'll go away, Spencer. You just have to give it time before it does." Spencer nodded and wiped his eyes, gaining his usual composure.

"Are you okay?" Gideon asked. He sniffed and shook his head.

"No."

"Gideon!" Morgan barreled into the room, out of breath. "Gideon we found her."

* * *

"FBI, FREEZE!" Hotch bellowed. The woman at the counter put her hands up. "Marybelle Johnson, you're under arrest for accessory to kidnapping and assault."

"'Bout time you all found me," she said quietly. Emily came forward, fire in her eyes and yanked Johnson's arms behind her back.

"You have the right to remain _silent_, you disgusting bitch!" She spat. She knew it was out of line and against protocol to say, but she had to say something. And that was the censored version of what she was thinking.

Hotch approached Johnson, his face hard.

"Where is he?" He asked darkly. She smiled pleasantly, cocking her head to the side.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Emily's nostrils flared and she shoved her toward the door.

They didn't have Harrington, but they had the next best thing.


	25. Don't You Forget About Me

25

**Don't You Forget About Me**

I stood from my spot on the couch when they brought her in. My hands started to shake in fear and it spread to my stomach. But my face was hard, jaw set. I wouldn't let her see it. I wouldn't let her see that I was still scared. I was more angry than scared now. She smiled at me as she past, just as I remembered. Then again, in retrospect I had seen her less than a month ago, it just felt like decades.

She was pretty I'm sure, I couldn't tell. But from outside eyes that didn't know what she was capable of, of the monster dwelling within her, I'm sure she was attractive.

Her thin, platinum blonde hair fell to her shoulders, not salon styled, more homely looking. Her dress was faded, a light blue flannel. Her beige shoes were a 90s style and looked their age. Her figure was slight, her face soft. She was attractive and harmless looking. I suppose I was the only one who could see that awful look in her eyes as she smiled at me, the same way she had smiled at the hospital.

Gideon put his hand on my shoulder. My eyes stayed locked with hers as they led her to the interrogation rooms. Emily pushed her roughly, sneering at the back of her head. Morgan's face was hard, his eyes cold. Garcia looked worried. She was looking from her, to me and back again, as if she was afraid of what I would do. J.J. and Hotch looked just as angry as the others did.

"Is that her?" Gideon asked. I nodded, shutting my eyes for a moment.

"Yes."

Hotch followed Emily into the room while J.J., Morgan and Rossi went in the other room and to watch. I walked toward them. I wanted to see this, no I _needed_ to see this.

"Spencer-" Gideon began I shook my head, turning to look at him.

"Gideon, I need to see this. I need to hear what she has to say. I…I want to know why," I said firmly. He nodded.

Hotch was already asking her questions when I stood next to Morgan.

"Where is he, Marybelle?" My eyes grew and I looked at Morgan. They hadn't found him. They hadn't found Master. I hadn't paid attention that he wasn't with them. God, he was still out there.

"We'll find him, kid. It's alright."

"I'm not tellin' you anything," she said sweetly. Her voice sent chills down my spine. I couldn't be scared now.

"Protecting him won't help you. You have nothing to gain from it." She folded her arms over her chest, frowning.

"There's this little thing called loyalty. Arthur and I have been friends for a very long time, longer than this little lady's been alive," she said firmly. "And without a lawyer I don't have to tell you shit."

"So you're admitting to-" Hotch asked, more calm than I thought he would be.

"Hurtin' that boy and making sure Arthur didn't kill him? Hell yes I admit to it. You already know I did, so why ask?"

Hotch and Emily exchanged glances.

"I liked hurtin' him," she smiled. My stomach turned. "Those pretty eyes of his just begging you not to hurt him anymore." Emily's hands clenched into fists, her jaw set. Marybelle sighed, smiling contentedly. "It's a good feeling ya get."

"What do you do for a living, Marybelle?" Hotch asked.

"I'm a nurse at Edenton General," she said. "I saw the boy there when y'all brought him in." The agent's eyes grew.

I bowed my head, ashamed. I could feel their eyes on me, staring in disbelief. Morgan's hand clasped around my shoulder.

"It's alright, kid. It's okay," he said softly. I looked over at him, my eyes pleading with him to understand.

"I wanted to… I couldn't, I-"

"No one is mad at you, kid. It's alright," he assured. I blinked a few times, swallowing hard.

"So that's how Harrington knew he was with us," Rossi said.

"…I told him what he needed to know to not only keep him alive, but keep him pretty too. Nobody wants a toy that's all scratched up, now do they."

My fists clenched in anger. I'm not a piece of property. I'm no one's "toy". I'm a person. I'm a human being. Or at least I used to be.

"Arthur's gonna find that boy. And when he does there won't be a damn thing you can do about it," she looked at the glass, smiling… right at me. "You'd better watch out, darlin'. 'Cause he's gonna get you good."

I nearly ran from the window.

"Kid!" Morgan yelled but I kept going.

I shoved past the police officers clogging the bullpen, ignoring their irritated stares, trying to find someplace where I could be alone. Somewhere quiet.

I stumbled into a hallway that led to the back parking lot. I leaned against the wall, resting my head against it. He was out there somewhere, looking, waiting, watching. What if he did find me? What if he got me again? No, no I was safe here. I was safe. No one would let him hurt me again. He couldn't get to me, not surrounded by all of these people. Not when Morgan swore he wouldn't let that happen.

Everything was okay… Everything's alright…

* * *

"Kid!" Gideon grabbed his shoulder.

"Let him go, Morgan."

Hotch and Emily left the interrogation room, going over to the other agents. "We aren't going to get anywhere with her right now."

"She's too loyal to Harrington," Hotch said, shaking his head. "But we can't worry about her right now; right now we have to set up a perimeter around the building. No one in or out without clearance."

"Someone needs to be with Spencer at all times," Gideon said. The others nodded.

"I'll go tell Garcia to turn on the security system," J.J. said before walking away.

The others dispersed as well. Hotch and Gideon explained the situation to the chief while Emily went with J.J. and Garcia. Morgan went to check and make sure when the security cameras were working, which took about four minutes of his time.

That's when he noticed.

"Spencer?" He looked around, at the couch, near Garcia, somewhere for that mop of brown hair. "Spencer?" He checked in the room he was supposed to be staying in. He wasn't there either. "SPENCER?" The others turned, exchanging worried glances.

"Oh God, please not again…" Garcia breathed.

But this wasn't the misunderstanding she had hoped for. He wasn't in the bathroom or lost in a book or even sleeping. Spencer was gone.

* * *

Everything's alright…

A hand clasped over my mouth, the rest of the arm an iron grip around my throat. The muzzle of a gun touched my cheek.

"Don't you scream, boy," Master's voice hissed in my ear, his breath hot on my neck. No, no, no, no, no! NO! Not again, PLEASE!

"Don't you make a sound. You do and I'll shoot that little one right in her pretty little head." I looked at the back of Garcia's head, shaking slightly. He pulled me back a little into the darkness, hiding us better. "And if that don't shut you up I'll shoot the blonde. Then that bitch, then your black friend, then boss man, then the old man. I'll end each and every one of them right in front of you." My eyes traveled from J.J. to Emily to Morgan to Hotch and to Gideon. No, no don't kill them, don't kill my friends! "Do you understand?"

I nodded slowly. I was being pulled backward, toward the door, toward Master's truck, toward Hell, again. I could've fought. I could've screamed, but that would risk their lives, and I wasn't that important.

Tears fell from my eyes, my heart thundered against my ribs and my body shuddered in fear. Morgan was yelling my name. I prayed he wouldn't come down here. He'd get hurt if he did.

"SPENCER?" I shut my eyes.

_Goodbye Morgan …_


	26. Here Comes Goodbye

26

**Here Comes Goodbye**

_Three Days Later…_

"I can't take this anymore!" Morgan bellowed. "There…there has to be something we can do!"

"Garcia looked over the surveillance tapes over a dozen times," Hotch said grimly. "He dragged Reid out of here and got in through that same door. Witnesses identified his vehicle as being a white Ford pickup. Without the license plate, we're looking at a needle in a haystack."

Morgan collapsed in a seat, his face in his hands. "I'm not doin' this again, Hotch. I can't go another two years without knowin' if he's dead or alive."

"How the hell did he get through all of our check points without being noticed?" Emily asked, looking just as tired and haggard as everyone else.

"Maybe he changed his appearance," J.J. suggested. "The only thing on those tapes we had to identify him was his height and build. It was too dark to see him. He could've looked totally different and we wouldn't have known."

"Marybelle would," Gideon said, standing.

"Gideon, she hasn't been any help to us thus far, why would she start now?" Hotch asked.

"We have to do something. We can't just sit here and-"

"Guys." They all turned toward the door. Garcia was standing there, holding an envelope to her chest, shaking a little.

"Baby-Girl, what's wrong?" Morgan asked. She held the envelope out to Hotch, her hand shaking.

"It-it's from him. It's addressed t-to all of us," she squeaked.

There was a disk inside.

"Prentiss, shut the door," Hotch said quietly. Once the door was closed and all outside sound disappeared Hotch put the disk in the DVD player. They all waited, holding their breath, for what they were about to see. In truth, they were all terrified of what they would see. What if he was dead? What if this was Harrington killing him? What if? What if? What if?

Garcia yelped a little when that face they all dreaded would be on this appeared in front of them. The film was black and white, but they could see everything just fine.

His dark circles were even darker. His arms were bound behind his back, revealing his cut and bruised chest. His eyes were swollen and filled with tears and fear. He was shaking, shivering more so. There was dried blood on his forehead and trickling from the corner of his mouth. There was a bruise on his cheek and a gash on his neck. He'd been beaten, badly. He was lying on his side, facing the camera.

"Um," his voice was shaking, but he was trying his best to keep it steady. "M-Mom, I…I'm sorry I didn't wr-write these past few years. I'm so s-sorry." Their hearts cracked; a tear rolled down his cheek. "I just w-want you to know that I, I'm proud to b-be your son. An'-and I hope that I made y-you proud. I h-hope I was what you wanted to-to be." He was crying more now, no sobs, just tears. "Don't w-worry about me-me. I'm in a m-much better place n-now." He tried to smile through his tears. "I'm okay. And I…" He stopped, shutting his eyes and swallowing . "And I love you."

He was quiet for a moment, taking shuddering deep breaths. "Guys, please, don't let her see the rest of this."

"He knew," J.J. breathed.

"He, he's letting me say g-goodbye. I di-didn't w-want to do this, b-because I knew it was another w-way for him to use me," he pressed his lips together, stifling a sob. "He's g-going to kill me. B-but I get to s-s-say goodbye."

None of them could tear their eyes away from the screen. None of them could believe what was happening.

"R-Rossi," the older agent blanched, surprised that he was being mentioned at all. "I kn-know I d-don't know you. But please, t-take care of them f-for me." Rossi nodded reflexively, not paying attention to the fact that Spencer couldn't see him.

"Emily," he gulped. She clasped her hands together, wringing them hard enough she thought she might draw blood. She ignored the tears working their way down her cheeks. "Stay strong. B-but don't shut down. It'll b-be alright. Okay? I'm sorry I-I didn't know you longer. And th-thank you, th-thank you so much f-for helping m-me." She bowed her head, sniffing.

"J.J.," He smiled a little. "Stay warm. Stay warm, please. D-don't let this harden you. I w-want to know that when you t-talk to v-victims or, or witnesses that they still feel th-that warmth. I'll m-miss you…"

J.J. had her hands clasped over her mouth, doing everything she could to keep her sobs in her chest.

His eyes were filled with so much innocence and fear and understanding that this was the end. He shut them again, shaking a little harder, sobbing just a little.

"Garcia," he swallowed hard, "smile. Please, smile. And d-don't stop smiling. I don't w-want to know what this world would b-be like without your smile. So d-don't stop." Garcia tried to smile as much as she could muster, but broke down in tears before she could.

"G-Gideon," he sobbed, unable to hold his composure anymore. "You were l-like a father t-to me. Better than mine." Gideon stared at the screen, his face unreadable. "Th-thank you for that. Thank y-you for being there for m-me. Thank you for not l-leaving me.

"Hotch." Hotch looked up, lips pursed, more sadness on his face than any of them had ever seen. "This isn't your fault. It's no one's fault but m-mine. It's not your f-fault, Hotch. And d-don't blame yourself f-for giv-giving up on me. It's o-okay. I understand. Don't take the g-guilt with you. It'll kill you. So please, for the team's s-sake and your f-family's, let it g-go. It's okay."

He was sobbing hard, his cheek against the concrete. "Morgan," he choked. "I kn-know that you hate yourself right now. I kn-know you're thinking you broke your promises that he wouldn't h-hurt me any-anymore, that he couldn't get me, or T-Take me ever again. But it's okay. It's o-okay, I promise. Y-you were my best friend, th-the only one I ever really had. Thank y-you for being there for me through this. Th-thank you so m-much.

"Guys, I n-need you to do something f-for me. I need you to make sure that… that that woman doesn't get off on s-something stupid. M-make sure she goes to pr-prison, please. I need y-you to catch him, p-please. And," it was getting harder and harder for him to talk through his sobs. "Please, please don't tell my mother wh-what he did to me. Pl-please.

"You'll be al-alright without me. It'll b-be okay. G-g-goodbye."

Someone laughed off screen. Spencer looked up, his eyes widening in horror at something unseen.

"Nohoh," he sobbed. "No, please, please don't, PLEASE!"

The camera was kicked, turning sideways and away from the scene. The laughter and pleas continued.

"PLEASE, PLEASE, NO! DON'T DO THIS! _PLEASE!_"

_BANG!_

The disk stopped.

-More soon-


	27. O Death

27

**O Death**

_BANG!_

The disk stopped.

"OH!" Garcia screamed, turning and burying her face in Morgan's chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Oh, God, no…" J.J. started to collapse but was quickly caught by Rossi and supported while she sobbed. Emily had her face in her hands, shaking her head.

Morgan smoothed Garcia's hair, but couldn't look away from the screen, tears on his face. "No, no, no, tell me that… No, he's not…"

Gideon was pacing back and forth, his face tormented, his thoughts darting rapidly back and forth in his mind.

Hotch hadn't moved.

"Hotch, wh-…what are we gonna do?" Morgan choked.

Hotch still didn't move. J.J. stood slowly, nodding to Rossi that she was okay. "Hotch, are you alright?" She asked quietly. The agent turned, wiping his eyes.

"We need to think," he said, his voice shaky.

"Maybe he didn't do it," Emily suggested. "I mean, he worked so hard to get him back, why would he go through all of that just to kill him?"

"To make sure Spencer stayed his 'til the end," Gideon said, still pacing. "He took the time to get him back so he could punish him, like he said he would. He said that Spencer was his and his alone. He wanted to keep it that way. It'd be easier to kill him to cut his losses and run."

"He wouldn't be able to take anyone else," Rossi said. "Not when we have the brains of the outfit in custody."

"WE NEED TO FIND THIS SON OF A BITCH!" Morgan bellowed, making Garcia jump. "Whether Reid's dead or not we're gonna find Harrington. We have to."

"Did we ever figure out how the hell he got in here?" J.J. asked.

"He changed his appearance," Hotch said quietly. "He changed his appearance and had a badge. That's how he got through the perimeter and security. No one recognized him."

"But we know what he looks like now?" Morgan asked. Hotch nodded. "Then let's go get the son of a bitch!"

"We don't know where to look!" Emily exclaimed.

"Maybe Marybelle knows something," Rossi suggested.

"There's no way we'll get anything out of her. If she didn't talk before, there's no way she'll talk now."

"Maybe Spencer left us something on the disk."

"We'd have to watch it over and over just to make sure."

"That could take days!"

Garcia looked back and forth between all of them, listening to them throw one improbability after another. Finally she broke away from Morgan and darted out the door.

"Baby-Girl!" Morgan called, going after her. The others followed quickly.

Garcia heard them calling for her, but she kept going, face set, determined. She burst through the door to the holding cell.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" She bellowed to the officer holding the keys. He quickly opened the cell door to the one occupant they had, Marybelle Johnson.

"Oh, the cute one's comin' to talk to-" She was cut off, by Garcia's hand wrapping around her throat.

"LISTEN TO ME RIGHT NOW, YOU DISGUSTING WHORE!" She roared.

"Garcia don't!"

"YOU TELL ME WHERE THAT PSYCHOTIC SON OF A BITCH IS RIGHT NOW, OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL SNAP YOUR SLUTTY NECK!"

"Y-you wouldn't!" She gasped. "Y-you ain't got the-" Garcia silenced her by squeezing tighter.

"I have a badge that says I can do whatever the hell I want," she growled. "NOW TELL ME WHERE HE IS!"

"Garcia, let her go!" Morgan yelled.

"TELL ME!"

"OKAY!" Marybelle managed. Garcia let her go, glowering.

"Okay," she coughed, holding her throat. "Okay, I'll tell you."

* * *

Spencer shivered in the dark, body numb from the cold. He could still feel his heart pounding in the bullet-hole in his shoulder that had been clumsily wrapped, after he had extracted the bullet… with his fingers.

"G-get out of ME!" He had screamed, sobbing as horrible pain shot through him while Master twisted and tugged.

He cried even now for the false goodbye that was being sent to his friends. He'd truly thought Master was going to kill him, that's why he was so scared. And when the bullet had gone into his shoulder he couldn't have been more surprised.

"They won't look for you, now," he grinned, the gun still in his hand. "They'll think you're gone, boy. And now you're all mine."

Master had punished him dearly for what he had done.

He'd been strung up as soon as he had gotten here, rough rope holding his wrists together in impossible knots. He'd pointlessly tried to get away, hoping and praying that he would die of a heart attack before Master could hurt him anymore.

"You've been a very bad boy," he growled. "You know better than to disobey me this way."

"Please! I am so sorry, Master, please!"

He cut off his clothes piece by piece, revealing his skin inch by inch, touching, kissing and probing areas he knew would make him whimper, shudder and beg.

Once he was totally naked he was whipped, everywhere. His whole body was covered in welts: his back, his chest, his neck, even his face.

But that pain was nothing compared to the torture Master gave him next. He was raped, slowly, painfully, so much that he couldn't move for an entire day once it was over. He had no voice, either. He'd been touched and torn in ways he couldn't even describe because there were no words for it.

Master spit on him, kicking him and treating him like a dog, dragging him by his hair and screaming in his face. He was beaten, backhanded, punched, cut, burned, whatever fancied his liking at the time. So horrible…

And now he was numb. He had finally, _finally_ run out of tears to shed. He just couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't cry. His heart ached at the thought of his friends having to go through losing him again. He tried not to imagine J.J. and Garcia crying and Gideon so tormented that he couldn't think, or Morgan being so angry he would hurt himself or someone else. But he could not cry. He just couldn't.

The door opened, sending harsh light into his eyes. He turned away, not even bothering to groan. His throat was like fire every time he swallowed and he needed to save all the energy he had for what was to come.

An overhead light assaulted him next, but he couldn't shut his eyes. He needed to see what would happen next.

"You ready for more?" Master grinned. Spencer didn't respond, he just looked away. Begging wouldn't help, so why bother?

His hair was snatched in a handful and he was hauled to his knees. "Did you hear me, BOY?" The back of his hand whipped across his cheek.

Spencer's head flew sideways, as usual. But instead of yelping, or crying out, or whimpering, he –for the first time in what felt like a millennia- started to laugh. He laughed.

He looked up at Master, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, grinning.

"Do it again."

Master blanched.

"Wh…what did you say?"

"Do. It. Again," Spencer repeated slowly. "Are you deaf?" Master's face screwed up into a horrible sneer.

"DON'T YOU TALK TO ME THAT WAY!" He screamed, striking him again. Spencer laughed again.

"Come _on_," he chuckled. "You can do better than _that_!" Again. "COME ON, HARDER!" Again. "HARDER!" Again. The more he was struck, the more he laughed. "I think you're doing it wrong," he giggled. "'Cause I don't feel a damn thing!"

He was punching him now, growing more and more enraged as his laughs continued. He stopped, knowing that if he hit his face anymore that he would be disfigured for awhile, and he couldn't have that.

"What, too tired?" Spencer mocked. "Oh, I wish I would've felt like this sooner, 'cause I feel _great_!"

"You're fucking crazy!" Master bellowed, grabbing his hair and bringing his face close. "What happens if I Take you right now, huh? HUH?"

"I probably won't feel it. It won't hurt. Especially because there's hardly anything there to hurt me with!" He had no idea where this bravery, or possibly stupidity, was coming from, but he didn't care. He didn't care what happened to him anymore. What he did know was that he couldn't take another two years of this, of torture, of pain, of hope. He wanted it to end, and at the rate he was going, it was going to happen soon.

"_WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME_?" He screamed.

"You're a coward," Spencer said. "I don't know why I was afraid of you. You're _nothing_. You're a pathetic _nothing_!" He spit the blood that had collected in his mouth into his face.

Master dropped him and stepped back, wiping his face with murderous anger in his eyes.

"I'LL SHOW YOU PATHETIC!" He pulled the gun from his waistband and pointed it at his face.

"Oh please," he snorted. "You really think I'm going to believe that you'll shoot me? HA! You spent all this time trying to get me back so you can play with me all you want. I don't think you're going to kill me."

God, he was so tired of it. So tired…

_Just kill me_, he thought, no he begged. _Please, just let him kill me…_

Master's hand was shaking, his eyes hesitant. That's when Spencer got a better idea.

By some form of miracle he mustered enough strength to get up and lunge at him. His shoulder rammed right into his stomach before Master could even register what was happening.

They both fell to the ground in a heap, the gun flying across the room.

"_YOU LITTLE FUCKER!_" He threw Spencer off of him, sending him into the opposite wall with an horrifying thump.

The wind had left Spencer's lungs, but by some grace of God in some twisted miracle, the chain between his cuffs snapped.

His eyes lit up and he searched for the gun while Master got to his feet, growling in anger.

Spencer lunged again, this time his hand closing around the handle of the gun before Master could get to it as he dived.

He rolled out of the way and stood, holding the gun out, pointing it directly at his heart.

Now it was Master's turn to laugh.

"I know you, boy," he hissed. "You ain't got it in ya to kill me. You-"

_BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!_

He only stopped because the clip was empty.

Master was still on the floor, blood oozing from underneath him, his eyes clouded over and wide as they gaped up at nothing.

He dropped the gun, breathing heavily, staring at him. Then he smiled. Then he laughed, relieved.

"I won," he gulped. "I won… I WON!"


	28. Lose Yourself

28

**Lose Yourself**

"I beat you, you son of a bitch," I breathed, still laughing lightly. "Who's the Good Boy now, huh? Huh? _WHO'S THE GOOD BOY NOW_?" I leaned against the wall, tears in my eyes but still chortling.

Then the door burst open next to me.

I turned as quickly as I could, pointing the gun at the door. It may not have been loaded, but the person coming in didn't know that, did they? I wouldn't be hurt again. No one would do this to me again, no, no, I was done. I would do everything I could to make damn sure of that. I'd rather die.

"DON'T MOVE!" I screamed as soon as I saw movement. "DON'T MOVE, OR I SWEAR TO GOD, I'LL-"

"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, Kid, it's me! It's Morgan!" He said, lowering his own weapon.

Morgan…MORGAN!

"Morgan?" My voice was shaking again.

"Yeah, it's alright. Gimme the gun, Kid."

"I…It's empty," I said, tossing it aside.

As soon as I did he hugged me as tightly as he could.

Everything came to a head at that point. I realized what I had done. I killed him, I killed him… I thought I was going to die, but here I was, and I remembered how to cry.

I hugged Morgan back, sobbing against his shoulder. "I, I killed him Morgan," I sobbed. "I-, I-…"

"It's alright, it's alright. Shh…" he soothed. "God, Kid, we thought we lost you."

"I th-thought he was going to… I thought…"

"Shh…" He wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. Dignity… I could have that again.

"Morgan?" Someone called.

"In here!" I looked up when J.J. came in. She stared at me for a beat before running toward me. She hugged me close, touching the back of my head and neck as if to make sure I was really there.

"Spence," she breathed, hugging me impossibly tighter. "You're okay, you're okay…" Okay wasn't the word I would've used. Alive, maybe. Okay… no, no definitely not okay.

I didn't even see that the others had come in until she let me go. They were looking from Master's body to me to the gun, obviously shocked.

Emily hugged me too, and it took a few minutes for her to let me go. I cried harder for some reason I didn't understand when Gideon held me.

"Never again," he said quietly, shaking his head and looking at me steadily. "Never again, alright?" I nodded, sniffing.

Hotch surprised me. I didn't expect him to hug me, but he did, tighter than everyone else had.

"You disappear like that again and you're fired, understand?" He said, his voice shaking with relief.

"I won't," I croaked. "I-I want to go home… please."

"We're going," Hotch nodded. "We have to take you to the hospital and then we'll be on our way, alright?" I looked at the floor, blinking a few times. "What's wrong?"

"I…I don't want to go in an am-ambulance again," I said softly. "I d-don't want people touching me again…"

* * *

_Edenton General Hospital_

They didn't make me go in an ambulance. I sat in the back of one of the SUVs, my face buried in J.J.'s shoulder as she held me. It was around this time that I realized how much everything hurt, which was probably why they were looking at me that way. I'm sure the bruises on my throbbing face were a sight.

I was scared. I was scared that killing Master was a dream. I was gonna wake up with him over me, touching me, hurting me, telling me to scream and beg and-

"Shh…it's okay, Spence. It's alright," J.J. soothed.

The hospital was just as bad as before. There were hands, everywhere, taking my pulse, drawing blood, telling me to turn over, asking me questions I didn't want to answer, so I didn't. They were angry with me, but I didn't care. It was horrible enough to have the memories flooding my mind every time I closed my eyes, I didn't want to have to explain it to a group of strangers.

They transferred me to a room after that. I was shivering the whole way, looking around for someone I knew. Someone who wouldn't let me do this alone.

"It's alright, Kid," I looked up at Morgan, relief flooding through me. "You're gonna be okay."

* * *

In all my years of working in the medical field, there was never a patient wanted to see less than this boy right here.

The first time had been bad enough, in fact the first time was horrible. And now… now I think it was worse. He was staring at the ceiling, his face bruised deeply. The dried blood had been wiped away, but the gashes and scrapes and tears were still there.

That wasn't what bothered me the most. What bothered me were his eyes. That hollow, saddened, lost look that reminded me of someone that had seen too much in a short amount of time. He was just a baby. Someone that young didn't need to have that look. I wondered if he'd ever be able to recover from this.

But that wasn't my job right now. My job was to make sure this poor baby was alright…physically anyway.

"Hey there," I smiled. He jumped, looking up at me. "It's alright, it's okay. You remember me?" He nodded slowly. God those eyes…

I smiled again. "Alright, well I'm just gonna take a look at you to make sure you can go home, sweetie. Is that okay?" He nodded slowly, glancing at his friend sitting next to him. I smiled falsely at him and he nodded back. I turned my attention back to the boy in front of me.

"Alright, now just hold still, honey."

The contusions and bruises that I had seen and treated before were nearly healed now. But new ones had formed. Though there were less than before, these were deeper, darker, and much more violent than before.

The handprints on his hips were blue. The bruises on his thighs were a deep purple. His body had been ravaged and torn with horrible rage. God, he was just a kid.

I cleaned, stitched and bound the bullet wound on his shoulder, knowing that the scratches around it were from human fingernails.

"Alright, Spencer," I said, blinking tears out of my eyes. "You can go home, sweetie. You're gonna be okay. Just take it easy, alright?" He nodded and sat up, his arms shaking as he pushed himself up.

He looked at Morgan, his eyes pleading and sad. "C-can we go?" He asked so quietly I could barely hear him.

"Yeah, Kid," he nodded. "We can go."

He helped the young man stand and guided him toward the door.

"I'll be there in just a sec, okay?" He said. Spencer nodded, adjusting the hospital issued white T-shirt he was wearing before folding his arms over his chest and walking away with the blonde woman he had come in with.

"Is he gonna be alright?" Morgan asked. I nodded.

"He might get a mild fever again, but other than that he should heal up just fine," I assured. "The son of a bitch that did that to him is dead, right?"

"Yeah," he said, smiling.

"Good," I said. He started to walk away. "Agent Morgan," he turned, "Could you tell Marybelle she's fired?"

"Yeah," Morgan chuckled. "Can do."

I sighed when he was gone, praying as hard as I could that that poor baby would be home soon.

* * *

Garcia didn't let Spencer go for five minutes when they got back, and when she finally did she wouldn't let him leave her sight.

Hotch handled the usual procedure of thanking the officers and Detective Arnold and making sure the plane was ready.

Spencer was asleep five minutes after they had taken off. He hadn't slept since they had taken him from that room. He ate sparingly, telling Emily he wasn't hungry when she asked.

They were all keeping a close watch on him, making sure that his mental state would be alright. None of them were sure if he could recover from this. A normal human being wouldn't be able to in a million years, but Spencer was strong, he could endure just fine…the first time. Now they weren't so sure. He had to go through everything he was afraid of all over again. Being beaten, shot, cut, screamed at and raped all over again.

What made matters worse was every single one of them had promised it wouldn't happen, that he was safe and he couldn't get to him. They had been blatantly proven wrong. He hadn't spoken much, didn't engage in conversations, didn't even pay attention to them. Most times when they looked he was staring at the floor, face blank and unreadable.

Unlike before, when they asked him if he was alright he shook his head. Every time. He looked so tired, so worn, so…done. The dark circles were far worse, much darker. His eyes held…nothing. Just nothing. It was awful to see, and even more painful to realize that there wasn't much they could do but be there for him.

Gideon was watching him sleep, lost in thought on the couch opposite him.

"You think he'll be alright?" Hotch asked quietly.

"I don't know," he said truthfully. "It depends on just how much damage Harrington did." Hotch nodded.

"So what's gonna happen when we get back? As much as I want to help Reid we can't put the other cases on hold."

"We'll figure something out. It'll take some time, but we'll be able to help him. There is one thing we have to do first."

"What's that?" Hotch frowned. Gideon sighed.

"We have to tell his mother."


	29. Baby Mine

29

**Baby Mine**

The sleep on the plane was all Spencer had had for the past three days. It wasn't that he didn't want to sleep, he simply couldn't. His mind was ablaze with horrors and memories that just wouldn't give him enough peace so he could rest.

He was never hungry. J.J. almost had to force him to eat. The fact of the matter was he just didn't want it. He'd gone days without food before, he could do it again.

And those thoughts brought on memories of lying in that basement, clutching his abdomen and wishing for just a single crumb to come his way. But no, no he had to work for it. He-

His body's condition was another story. He was on mild pain killers only because he didn't want to be on the heavier ones. He needed to feel something, and if pain was it, then fine. He never winced nor said a word about any injury. He moved stiffly at points, which was to be expected after the whipping he'd received.

"Hotch, he's gotta be in a lotta pain," Morgan said, sadness in his eyes as he looked at him. The supervisor nodded, staring after the young man. "I mean, I don't think any of us could take what he's goin' through right now."

"Then he's a lot stronger than the rest of us would be, isn't he?"

He caught a glimpse of the news when they arrived and that's when he realized. He'd missed two years of news. _Two years._ He knew nothing about the present day. And going from being the expert on everything to not knowing so much was troubling. He grabbed every magazine he could, reading through all of them in mere minutes. He needed to know, he had to know.

There was some debate amongst the BAU team about who he would be staying with. Of course, when the subject was brought up, Morgan volunteered first.

"I'll take him," he said, crossing his arms protectively. He wanted to help his friend in anyway he could. He felt responsible for him, and like that in some way shape or form he could've prevented all of this, especially the second kidnapping.

"I think I should," Gideon said, looking at him. It wasn't a challenge, it was just a statement.

"I think that's a better idea," Hotch agreed. There was no doubt in any of their minds that Spencer would be taken care of and protected by Morgan, that wasn't the debate. What Gideon could offer that Morgan couldn't was the ability to get into his head. Gideon could bring him out of a memory better than any of them could. He could challenge his mind better than they could and he could teach him normalcy in such a way that he would understand better than them.

Morgan understood this as well. But he wanted Spencer close. He wanted to make sure that he was okay no matter what and in his mind the only way to do that was to keep him in his sight at all times. He knew it was the logical and better choice for Gideon to take him, but he had that unease, despite Harrington's death.

Then there were the trials. Marybelle and Spencer's. It was obvious that Spencer pulling the trigger was pure self defense. He had absolutely no choice, and they had the footage to back that up. The hard part was, no matter what, Spencer would have to testify as to what happened. But no judge would send the case to a jury, not a one. That didn't make it any less difficult.

Spencer was terrified and humiliated when he learned he would have to do this, but if it had to be done, then so be it. Part of him felt awful for taking a human life, another was beyond happy, ecstatic to the point of hysterical laughter. The conflicting emotions gave him a headache.

What upset him more was that his friends had seen those tapes. He'd known for a long time that Master taped the punishments, it was in his profile. But…but they had seen…they had seen what he'd done to him. They saw how he cried, how pathetically he had begged and pleaded and cried. He was so ashamed.

"Kid, it's alright," Morgan assured, putting a hand on his shoulder. Spencer jerked away, his eyes on the floor, void of tears. He didn't seem to have any left to cry anymore. Or he was slowly shutting down and there wasn't a damn thing they could do about it.

"It's not alright, Morgan," he protested quietly. "You… you didn't need to see that. Garcia especially didn't need to see that! You…you didn't need to see what he did to me!"

"Kid…" Morgan reached out to him again. This time, Spencer didn't pull away.

"Those pathetic sounds I made. I was so, so _weak_. I didn't have the guts to fight back. I-"

"Spencer," Morgan said sternly, facing him squarely. "You are not weak. You did what you had to do. If you would have behaved differently, if you would've kept fighting back he would've killed you. You know that somewhere in that brain of yours. That's why you didn't. And I'm glad you didn't. I'm glad you're here, we all are."

The younger man looked at the floor. "I just feel so worthless, Morgan. Like a shell with nothing in it. I'd…I'd be better off dead."

He meant it, too. At the moment it didn't matter if he was breathing or not. He wouldn't know the difference. He was so tired, so weary from all that he had been through. He was done. Flat out and completely done.

His apartment was still vacant, the rent and maintenance kept up by his friends –whom he thanked graciously several times- and his things had been moved into storage. They had retrieved his clothes and a few of the dozens of boxes of books and other essentials so he could move in with Gideon. It was all temporary, and Spencer couldn't wait until everything just went back to normal.

He was closing off from the world. He shut everything and everyone out, trying to make it so he didn't feel anything, so nothing could hurt him anymore. They all saw it happen, and none of them knew how to fix it. Which is exactly why they called his mother.

* * *

Diana had been waiting for this phone call since the day he'd gone missing. She was very scared when she heard Agent Hotchner's voice on the other end, wondering if this would be the day she found out her son, her baby, her world, was dead and gone.

"We found him, Ms. Reid." Was the last thing she thought he would say.

"You… you found him? You found my baby?" She couldn't believe it. She shut her eyes, smiling at the thought of seeing her son again.

"Yes, we-"

"Is he alright? Is he hurt? Did they starve him? Is he healthy? What did-?"

"Ms. Reid," Hotch interrupted. "Physically he will be just fine in a few weeks."

"Oh god, he…he's not, he's not like me, is he? Mentally? Tell me he still has his mind!" She begged. She couldn't let them bring him here, he wasn't crazy… her son wasn't crazy.

"It's just in disrepair right now," Hotch explained gently. "Now, I understand how much you hate planes, but-"

"I will be there on the next flight out. I just need someone to get me the hell out of here."

"There are agents already on their way."

"Thank you," she breathed. "Thank you so much for saving him."

"I just hope you can help him," Hotch said gravely. "He needs you."

That only drove her more. She had to be there for her baby, she had to. She would do whatever it took to make sure he was alright again, that he could be normal again.

Diana had never been saner in her life than these past two years. Something always told her that Spencer was being hurt, that he was crying for someone to help him and she was here, helpless. She cried a lot, each day without a letter reminding her that he was in the hands of some merciless monster that wanted to hurt him. She knew without even asking that he was being tortured in ways she couldn't imagine, and she didn't want to. She didn't want to know what had been done to him because she didn't want to have to murder someone.

She couldn't be angry right now. Right now, he needed her.

"I'm on my way, Spencer," she whispered, shutting her eyes and seeing his smiling face.

* * *

"Should we tell him she's coming?" Hotch asked. Gideon shook his head.

"No."

"Why?" Emily asked bluntly. "Uh, sir?" She amended.

"Because if we do then he'll tell us to send her back," Rossi said. "He won't want her to see him like this even though it's the best possible way for him to recover.

So they waited.

And when she arrived Hotch made sure J.J. was there to vaguely explain why Spencer was the way he was and how he was behaving.

"Oh, no," Diana sighed, shaking her head. "No, he can't behave this way…it'll kill him." J.J. wondered if she realized that she was still in the car with her but said nothing.

When they arrived back at Quantico, she quickly escorted Diana to the conference room where Spencer currently was, being drawn in there to get away from the noise that stressed his latest headache.

The other agents watched as Diana stood in the doorway for a moment, eyes filled with tears as she looked at her baby.

He looked so thin, thinner than she remembered. His hair was longer, and the dark circles that had followed him his whole life were almost black. He was pale, eyelids a light purple, totally exhausted. His hands were folded on the table in front of him, his head bowed, like he was praying. For all she knew he was.

There was no gentle way to do this. She just had to do it.

She walked up behind him and stroked the back of his head. "Spencer." He spun around so fast it almost knocked her over.

His eyes grew to record size when he saw her. "M-Mom?" She touched his cheek, waiting until she had the opportunity to hold him like she longed to do.

"I'm here, sweetheart," she assured, smiling at him. God, she had her son again! "You haven't been eating, have you?"

He didn't answer. He threw his arms around her waist, burying his face in her stomach, no tears shedding. She hugged him back, stroking his hair and his cheek.

"Shh…it's alright. I'm here, I'm here, shh…"

"Mom…"

She lifted his chin, looking into those tortured eyes that had seemed so naïve once. "Don't do that," she said sternly. "Don't you dare shut down on me, Spencer Reid. You listen, right now," she softened her tone, her expression and her touch, kneeling down in front of him.

"You have to feel this, baby. You have to or you won't be able to feel the good things too. I know it seems easier to push it all away and make it so nothing can hurt you ever again. But you can't. There are too many people here that care about you to let that happen."

"What do you want me to do?" He asked, his voice cracking just a little. She smiled warmly at him, cradling his face.

"I want you to cry, baby. Cry. Feel it. There's nothing to be ashamed of, alright?" She hugged him again, kissing his temple and the top of his head as he sobbed, saying her name over and over, clinging to her for dear life.

"M-Mom… help me," he begged.

"I will, darling, I will. That's why I'm here. Shh… just let it out, let it out, baby. Shh…"

* * *

"Is she gonna be alright with him?" Morgan whispered.

"Diana may be crazy," Gideon said, equally as quiet. "But she is saner than I am when Spencer needs her the most."


	30. Learning to Live Again

30

**Learning to Live Again**

Diana stayed with Spencer overnight, calming him, mostly. Opening up again was definitely a step forward, no matter how much Spencer wished it wasn't.

"What do I do now?" He asked, staring at his hands. Diana sat down next to him on the beds, smiling gently.

"You have to move on, sweetheart," she said, touching his cheek. "You have to remember what it was like being you before that, that…" She took a deep breath, stopping herself. "Before he took you. It'll be hard at first, but you'll get back into the swing of things."

She started asking him questions about things she read to him when he was little. She asked him about verses in the bible, just to make sure he still remembered them. And he did. It was buried in the back of his mind but it was still there. He rattled them off with ease, most of the time not realizing where they came from, but it helped. It helped immensely.

She left a few days later, the doctor on the phone ranting and raving about her medicine. But Diana was just fine. Perfectly sane, for the most part.

"You're gonna be just fine, Spencer," she assured, kissing his forehead. She looked over his shoulder at Hotch.

"He gets kidnapped again and I'm scratching your eyes out," she said firmly. Hotch nodded, chuckling.

The nightmares came back with a vengeance. He had at least three per night. He'd wake up screaming, or crying, or both. Gideon was there every time to help him, to be there for him and help him get through another horrendous dream.

Spencer knew what a toll it was taking on the older man. Neither of them slept much, and Spencer knew that was his fault.

He apologized, but that only seemed to make Gideon angry.

"The nightmares aren't your fault," he said sternly. "You have no reason to apologize, understand?" He nodded.

He and Gideon played chess for hours on end in an understood silence. It got Spencer's mind to work, it got him to think as quickly as he knew he could. He only won once, but that was alright. He got better and better as each round went on until he was where he was when he'd disappeared.

Gideon smiled at him, clapping his hand on his shoulder as he stood and walked toward the kitchen. That simple gesture alone made Spencer smile. And it gave him something else, too. Confidence.

When the rest of the BAU had to leave on a case, he stayed with Garcia.

"You ready for the sleepover?" She joked, smiling. He smiled back.

She made him laugh and even attempt to joke back. She helped him remember how to smile. She told him about all of the good things there were in life, even if they were little.

"It's the little stuff that counts the most," she said several times. She helped him see there was good in the world.

She got very scared the first time he had a nightmare while staying with her. But she woke him all the same, tears in her own eyes and held him all night, refusing to let him go.

J.J. surprised him one day.

He was sitting at a desk, thinking, trying to remember what it was like to do things on his own, to ignore the voices in the back of his mind screaming at him that he had to be a good boy, when she sat down in front of him, a wrapped box in her lap. He looked up at her and handed it to him.

"What's this?" He asked, frowning a little.

"Well, you uh, you went missing on your birthday. I didn't have a chance to give you this when we got back."

He smiled, astounded. "J.J., you didn't have to do that." He said. She shook her head.

"I wanted to," she smiled. She nodded to the box. "Well, open it."

It was football tickets. Redskins tickets. He smiled. They'd gone to a game together before. "I had to get different ones for this game's date."

"Thank you," he grinned. "Thank you so much." She hugged him.

"You're welcome, sweetie."

* * *

"Morgan, what're we doing here?" I asked.

He shut the door to the room behind him. "Alright, Kid, sit down."

I obliged almost immediately.

"See that right there?" He said. "You did exactly what I said."

"So?" I said, confused. "Where are you going with this?"

"Tell me no, Kid," Morgan challenged. "Don't do what I say."

He looked at me for a beat. "Stand up." I did, then chastised myself. "Sit down." I resisted.

"N-no," I said quietly. He stepped closer to me, his face hard.

"Sit down," he growled. I jumped back a little and sat. I sighed, staring at my hands for a second, frustrated, and stood again. Morgan had backed up.

"Sit down." His voice was normal, like before.

"No." My voice was still quiet.

He got close to me again. "I said, sit down," he hissed.

"No." My voice was a little stronger.

"SIT DOWN!" I yelped and fell back in the chair, shaking a little.

I stood again, taking deep breaths.

"Sit down."

"No."

"Sit down!" He got in my face. I got back in his.

"No!"

"SIT DOWN!"

"NO!" I yelled, I actually yelled.

"SIT DOWN OR-" He raised his fist, like he was going to hit me. So I beat him to the punch, literally.

He fell to the ground, leaving my hand throbbing and my eyes wide.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

He shook his head quickly, as if clearing his head. He touched the corner of his mouth, were a small trickle of blood was.

I waited. I waited for him to be murderously angry and hurt me. If he tried, I'd fight him back. Never again, never again…

Instead, he smiled and pushed himself off the ground, pulling me into a hug.

"You did good, Kid. You did it."

"He…Harrington…can't hurt me anymore." It wasn't a question, just a statement. Morgan's smile grew immensely.

"That's right, Reid. He can't."

-More soon!-


	31. Better Now

31

**Better Now**

"Does it have to be like this? I mean, we've got video footage! He shouldn't have to go through all of this!" Emily exclaimed, her voice echoing in the courthouse around them.

"We have footage of the torture; we have nothing other than Reid's testimony as to what happened when Harrington was killed," Hotch explained. "I don't like it any more than you do, but this is the only way. I doubt this'll take more than two hours to get through. No judge in their right mind would bother taking this to trial."

"Alright," she sighed. "I don't like it, though."

"None of us do."

* * *

While Spencer spoke, he never looked up. He stared at his hands the entire time, words gushing from his mouth and not stopping, just like his tears.

The room itself was only filled with about thirty people, but that was more than enough. He could feel every pair of eyes on him, watching every move, hanging on every word. He wanted to run out of there several times. He wanted to run _screaming_ and never be found again. But he kept talking.

All he had to talk about was when and how he killed Master, and why he was forced to do it.

"And…and I…I shot him. If I didn't he…he would have killed me. I didn't have a choice." He finally looked up, swallowing hard. He met Morgan's eyes immediately. He smiled a little, making Spencer feel a little better.

"Well," Judge Collins said, clearing his throat and looking down at the young man. "I think that much is apparent, Dr. Reid. Hardest part about this case is the paperwork. Self defense." He banged the gavel on the counter and Spencer stood, shutting his eyes and sighing.

He walked back over to his friends, utterly relieved. It was almost over. It had to be…

Little things were slowly coming back to him. He remembered how to cook out of nowhere the other day. The motions simply dawned on him.

Marybelle was sentenced to life in prison for battery, aiding in kidnapping, accessory to murder and attempted murder. No parole.

The nightmares grew less intense. His fear of others around him lessened. He could actually talk and look at people he didn't know and not be completely afraid that they would hurt him. But he was still scared.

He wasn't ready to go back to work yet, but, regardless, he took an interest in the cases that the team was working on. Gideon even came to ask him questions sometimes.

Gideon also started asking him about the profiles of criminals. What are the characteristics of a serial arsonist? A narcissist? A psychotic? A rapist? Power assurance, power reassurance?

Talking about sadists and violent schizophrenics were one thing, rapists were another. He didn't want to think about that. The first time Gideon brought it up he started to shake so violently his teeth chattered. He buried his face in his hands, shaking his head, that voice screaming in his ears.

Gideon had to literally shake him before he snapped out of it. "Spencer, Spencer!" He barked, waiting for the boy's eyes to focus. "It's alright. It's alright. Shh…"

"I-I'm sorry," Spencer stammered, tears on his face. "I, I-"

"Shh…hush, it's alright. You have to be able to deal with this, Spencer," he said gently. "You have to be able to talk about this. You can't work if you don't."

"Okay," he gulped. "Okay…"

"Shh…" Gideon hugged him for awhile, but not nearly as long as he would've had to six months before. He was getting better, at least he was trying to.

It had been a year since he'd been rescued from that basement. It had been a year since he'd jumped at every sound, waiting for that man to come for him again. To hurt him, to beat him, to rape him. A year since that man had died and he'd regained his hope and his will to live. And it had taken this time for him to be able to live alone again.

Morgan stayed with him that first week. They unpacked boxes, most of them books, actually nearly all of them books, and tried to get everything as close to normal as it used to be.

It never would be the same. None of it would be the same again, no matter how hard he tried. Things were different now, in some way shape or form.

That first night alone was torture. He left every light in the house on. He only slept for maybe an hour, but he slept. He'd looked at the phone several times, wondering if he should call Morgan.

"If you need anything, just call me, alright, Kid?" He had said. But he didn't. He could do this, he could do this.

Slowly, night by night, he turned off another light in another room until finally he could sleep in the dark. It was hard when he woke up from a nightmare, alone. Sometimes they were so bad he'd curl in a ball and sob.

He was alright. He was getting better. The real test was, could he come back to work? Well, no sense in not trying.

Could he stomach seeing crime scene photos? Could he go through a case, listen to victims testimonies and keep a strong front? He hoped so. He could at least try.

It was hard, very hard to do. He knew what these people went through before they died. What they were thinking. But he had to listen to Morgan, who told him to use it to his advantage, to help him work.

Rossi was staying with the team for another couple of weeks to "wrap up a few things" but he knew better. It was in case he couldn't take the pressure, couldn't take the victims or the unsubs. He was quieter than before. It took him awhile to engage himself in the briefings of the case, but Gideon helped with that, telling him to speak. He soon caught on to the pattern, reminding himself that he could speak on his own.

Everything was alright for awhile. The cases were normal, well, as monstrously normal as they usually were.

But there was one that they were all certain he wouldn't be able to do, one they thought would touch too close to home and he would have to sit this one out with Garcia. Quite the contrary, however.

He ended up being the most helpful resource they could have asked for.

Young men were disappearing. They were kept and sexually abused for two months to the day until they were killed and dumped in the same place they had disappeared from.

There were massive welts all over the body from the restraints that had been put on them, a type of chord.

Spencer knew how to find the man. He knew what to expect was being done to the victim, helping them with the profile. It wasn't long before they found the unsub's house.

They raided the house, each of them storming in all directions, looking for the unsub.

That wasn't Spencer's priority. Spencer was looking for Mark Thompson, who'd been missing for two months tomorrow.

He walked down the stairs, through the small door that most people wouldn't notice. But he was looking for it.

Mark was strapped down to a rickety wooden chair that resembled something a dentist would use. Black chords were pulled tightly over his biceps and his forearms, forcing his hands behind the chair.

More chord was used to hold down his chest and his neck. There were straps on his thighs, hooking up through his groin and going over his stomach. There were even strips of it in his mouth, gagging him. A blindfold was tied over his eyes.

Spencer's stomach flipped.

He knew what that felt like. He knew exactly what it was like, listening to someone come for you while you're totally helpless.

Mark trembled more and more the closer he got, whimpering, crying and shaking his head.

"Hey, hey, it's alright," he assured, carefully taking the cloth from his fearful, swollen eyes. "Shh…It's alright. Shh…" He carefully tugged the chord out of his mouth.

"Please, please, don't hurt me!" He begged.

"Shh, I'm not gonna hurt you. It's alright. My name is Dr. Spencer Reid, I'm with the FBI. I'm here to help you. I'm going to get this off of you, alright?" He carefully got each chord off of him, wincing when the wounds underneath were bloody.

He quickly got him off the table and wrapped a blanket around him, tight.

"Shh…shh…he can't hurt you anymore. Shh…"

He told Mark that he would be alright. He stayed with him in the ambulance, making sure only one person touched him at a time. He told him that if he needed to know how to get through this that he could call him.

"Thank you," he choked. "Thank you, so much…"

* * *

I didn't talk much the rest of the night. I was about to go into my hotel room when Morgan grabbed my shoulder.

"Kid, if you need to talk I'm right next door," he assured. I gave him a half-smile.

"Thanks but, I'm alright," I assured, nodding.

I wasn't. I saw the look in Mark's eyes, that look that reflected how I had felt, how I still felt sometimes. Mark would be alright, but he would never be the same. There would always be something that he could never do again that didn't bother him before.

I could never listen to "Hurts So Good" ever again. The sound of a chain rattling sent goosebumps shooting up I spine.

I stood, running my fingers through my hair, exasperated. I went into the bathroom, grabbing a towel. I turned on the water and stepped back, unbuttoning my shirt.

I stopped for a moment, looking at myself in the mirror. The bruises were gone, but there were scars left. My wrists were still in shambles from the cuffs. I could still see the outline in my shoulder where he'd shot me. My left arm was slightly off, just a little kink in how it hung at my side.

"_Hold still, BOY!" _I shuddered, pushing my hair out of my face again. I'd cut most of it off, surprising everyone else. I didn't want to feel the echo of his fingers in my hair anymore.

I shuddered again, this time in revulsion, looking away from myself. I finished undressing and got into the shower. I hated being naked, _hated_ it. I felt helpless and weak all over again.

I hung my head, listening to his voice in my head. Most days I was alright. Most days, I could get through this and be just fine. Sometimes the memories something sparked weren't that bad. This was a horrible night. I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight.

I got out of the shower, shaking. I sat on my bed for over an hour, my eyes shut, hands folded, tears sliding down my cheeks. Every sound in the semi-dark room made me jump.

I hesitated five times before finally standing and leaving the room. I stood in front of the door across the hall, hesitating some more before I finally knocked.

Morgan opened the door, rubbing his tired eyes. "Hotch, man, we don't have to be up for another four hours," he mumbled before he saw me. I chewed my lip, tears in my eyes. He frowned, worry in his eyes. "Reid, somethin' wrong?"

"Does…does that offer still stand?" I breathed.

"C'mon, Kid."

He hugged me. That's all he had to do. It made me feel better. I cried hard, knowing that someday, I'd be alright again.

* * *

_Five months later…_

"Surprise!"

He broke into an embarrassed grin. "What's this about?"

"You missed three years worth of birthdays, Reid," Morgan grinned. J.J. walked over, grabbing his arm and dragging him toward the cake.

"Do I have to?" He giggled.

"I'll make you wear that hat again," she threatened.

"Alright, alright!" He threw up his hands in defeat, sitting down.

"Alright, you have presents baby cakes!" Garcia exclaimed.

"Looks like he's doing better," Rossi said. Gideon nodded.

"Seems like," he said, smiling a little. "You gonna go back into retirement?"

"I'll probably pick up the book tour again," he nodded. "Go hunting again. And if you guys need me, I'm a phone call away."

"Well, it was nice having you around, Dave."

"Good to be around," he chuckled. "But I think they missed that kid more."

Almost as if he heard their conversation, Spencer stood and walked over to them. "I heard you were leaving," he said, frowning. Rossi nodded.

"Well, the team doesn't need me anymore. I was just filling in until you got back anyway." Spencer smiled.

"Thank you, then. By the way I read your books and I found that…" He was talking so fast no one could understand him.

Gideon smiled and shook his head, walking away, passing Hotch.

"What's going on?" He asked.

"Reid's rambling." Hotch sighed.

"Sweet normalcy."

**THE**

**END**

-Where do I even begin? Thank you to everyone who has followed this story from day one, and the rest of you that came in later! You all were fantastic and I thank you for every single review I have received for this. Thanks to you who read, those who reviewed and those who critiqued. I would also like to send a special thanks to **Lizzie Reid. **Without her, this story wouldn't have been possible. God bless all of you and I hope to hear from you all again. P.S. if you like this, check out my other equally as horrifying fic **"Worst Case Scenario". **Farewell.-


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